


We'll Be Just Like The Movies

by ravinilla



Category: VIXX
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Historical, Angst, Character Death, Dreams and Nightmares, Fate & Destiny, K-pop Cameos, M/M, Mentions of homophobia, Near Death Experiences, Reincarnation, Slow Burn, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, Taekwoon is a half-dead college student, Undertones of non-con, Wonsik is a considerably less-dead college student, clumsy boys, does it all work out in the end? stay tuned to find out!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-16
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2019-03-05 13:57:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 41,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13389255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravinilla/pseuds/ravinilla
Summary: Taekwoon has a reoccurring nightmare every so often, but it isn't until he almost dies that more of the story begins to reveal itself.





	1. Hard, Geometric Lines

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, and welcome to the longest oneshot I've ever written! A few things to note:
> 
>   * This fic was a request from a [prompt list!](http://homoerotixx.tumblr.com/post/167601489547/)
>   * It got so long that I had to break it up into parts! Absolutely ridiculous.
>   * It's super fucking slow and I'm sorry B^)
>   * It's so long that I only edited through it twice, so please understand my plight!
> 

> 
> With that out of the way, please enjoy this milestone in my career as a fanfic writer!

_"No, stop!" he screamed with a raw throat. "Take me instead!"_

_Cruel laughter rose from the police general. "Oh, fret not—you're next."_

_Bound and on his knees, he could only watch in horror as the other man coughed blood that trickled down his chest to join the red spilling from his abdomen. They were slicing him open, one long, torturous cut at a time. He wanted to look away but officers had his face clenched in their surly hands and forced him to watch._

_"Please, I'll do anything!" he cried again, but it was useless._

_The man tied to the post struggled to look back at him with swollen, glazed eyes, and even though he was being murdered for simply protecting the one he loved, his lips twitched into a pathetic excuse for a comforting smile._

_He could barely see through his watery vision when he screamed, "WONSIK!"_

•

•

•

Taekwoon woke with a start. He clutched at his chest, gasping and drenched with sweat. His own voice echoed in his head, wailing a name he didn't recognize at all. That was the third time this month he'd had that very same nightmare... It was beginning to wear him down.

Night was still out. He wiped at his face, unsurprised at the tears mixing with sweat that stung his eyes, and then checked the time: 5:14AM. Wincing and then hissing, he reached over his shoulder to press at the keen burn of his skin; hot and aching, like someone put a brand to him. His birthmark again... That nightmare grated at it once again and he had no idea why.

Exhausted, he flopped back into bed. There was no getting back to sleep, he knew, but a little rest would do some good. Exam season had been draining the life out of him and he hadn't gotten a good sleep in what had to be _weeks._ His body was crying uncle and ready to give out on him.

About a half-hour passed of Taekwoon drifting in and out of consciousness, still too rattled to fall back asleep, before he decided to get up. He shuffled out of bed, scratching his stomach and ignoring the dull burn of his back, and made a beeline for his coffee machine. Thank god his parents had bought him a new one for an early Christmas gift—it was basically the only thing keeping him alive through these trying times of endless papers. He set a pot to brew and then shuffled back to his room for the bathroom.

Fifteen minutes were spent leaning against the cool tile wall and letting the lukewarm spray loosen him up a bit before he got around to actually showering. Chilly air rippled his skin with goosebumps as he stepped out and he was quick to dry up and scrub his hair of excess water. He stepped in front of them mirror and wiped its thin layer of perspiration.

Craning his neck to look over his shoulder, he reached back again to trail his fingers over his birthmark. To call it that was a bit of a stretch—the odd mark could hardly qualify as someone's normal idea of a birthmark with its precise geometry. He frowned at how irritated the skin around it was.

After throwing on clothes, he made a latte and grabbed some sweet bread to eat it with. He plopped onto his couch, pulled out his laptop, and sighed; might as well get something done before his first lecture of the day. Why he resigned himself to such early morning classes, he'll never know.

An hour of citing sources and revising run-on sentences born of delirium passed and Taekwoon gave into the fact that he would have to get ready for class soon. He slogged to his room and shucked on the first set of clean clothes he found, and then tussled his hair into something manageable. He packed up his computer and books, wrapped up in a coat, and then set out to meet his morning's first doom.

He fell asleep during the lecture, of course. It was only natural; humans just weren't made to be up and around at this godforsaken hour, and his professor's droning voice didn't help either. It would probably end up putting him back to sleep again once he listened to it on his recorder's playback, but that was for later after he took at least three more naps.

Exam season was that time when no one was really alive and everyone was walking the fine line between shooting into the sky or digging their graves, but Taekwoon was unusually tired today. The dream, he had been thinking off and on; it had to be that nightmare he kept having.

Gruesome images flashed by in his head and he would find himself with a hand on his stomach. What a horrible way to die, that was. There were times when the dream made it to his own execution, after the one named Wonsik, and he remembered how it felt all too well. Thinking of that name too—Wonsik—and the face with it hurt a little though, made him sad. He'd never known anyone named Wonsik before.

The longer he thought about it, the less dull the burning of his birthmark was.

Throughout the day, he drifted in and out of a daze and had to be brought back to attention more than once. A couple friends mentioned how weird he was being, but he could care less; he just wanted to get home, ignore looming exams, and take a nap.

"Hey, the light's changed." a voice said behind him at the crosswalk.

Taekwoon shook his mind clear and glanced over his shoulder to apologize quickly before starting to cross. The afterimages of the person's face poked at his memory, but he was too out of it to grasp onto the thought. He shook his head at his inattentiveness and dragged his way across the street.

"Look out!"

A car horn blared by Taekwoon's ear. The whole world flipped upside down. Asphalt ground against his face and stomach. Fuzziness blanketed everything.

Blinking, Taekwoon found himself sitting on the bumper of an ambulance. EMTs bustled from here to there while blocked off civilians poked their noses in where they didn't belong. The aftermath of a car accident sat past the thick white lines of crosswalk where first responders cleaned up debris with masks on their faces.

"Hey..." he mumbled. An EMT turned to him, surprised.

"Responsive?" they asked, and brought a light to his eyes. He squinted at the intrusion. "What's your name?"

He cleared his throat before responding, "Jung Taekwoon. University junior."

"Good." they replied, and then continued their ministrations to his face. His fresh scrapes stung as they applied antiseptic and other ointments.

"Did I..." He chewed on his bottom lip. "Did I cause that?"

The EMT shook their head. "It was a drunk driver. You're lucky someone got you out of the way."

Confused, Taekwoon raised his eyebrows. "Someone...? Who? Are they... okay?"

With a hum, the EMT said, "A little worse for wear, but he'll survive." They gestured their head to the ambulance across from them where police talked to a tall boy with unkempt black hair. Taekwoon blinked. Didn't he recognize that face?

His jaw set at the renewed sting of his birthmark, on top of the injuries.

After a routine check of his motor functions while he stole glances at the person who saved him, Taekwoon was let go. He made sure all of his belongings were in order and that his phone hadn't gotten smashed up, and then sighed. This was what he got for being so damned mindless all day.

It seemed like his savior was finished at the same time he was, and as soon as he spotted Taekwoon, he bid the police goodbye and jogged over. Taekwoon winced at the odd press against his shoulder blade; why was his birthmark reacting so much?

"Hey..." he greeted, rubbing at his chest, "You alright?"

Taekwoon nodded. "Was it you?"

He nodded with a crooked little grin. He was handsome, wasn't he? In a very boyish way. Taekwoon wrote off the uncomfortable churning in his stomach from having almost died. He cleared his throat.

"Well... Thank you. You saved my life." He bowed.

The boy's face flushed and he laughed awkwardly. "Please don't do that, it's no big deal..." He coughed into his fist once. "Actually, I can't say my intentions were... entirely pure."

Taekwoon paused and raised an eyebrow.

"Well, I—uh. God, I'm gonna sound like a creep..." he said to himself, and then looked back up with squared shoulders. "I was actually kinda... following you? Wait, I mean...!"

Following him? What for? It didn't put Taekwoon off, but he didn't even know this person. "What for?"

"I...! Uh... Was gonna ask for your... number..." the boy said sheepishly. "But you looked really distracted and I wasn't sure when to approach you, y'know? You didn't even hear the car coming..."

"Ah..." It was Taekwoon's turn to be embarrassed, reminded that his daydreaming nearly cost him his life. "Sorry."

His apology flustered the other even more. "Seriously, don't apologize! I can only take so much..." He rubbed the back of his neck and then perked up. "Oh, by the way," He stuck out his hand, "I'm Wonsik."

Taekwoon's foot set back one step on its own as he stared.

_...Wonsik?_

Wonsik frowned and slightly retracted his hand. "Something wrong?" he asked.

Realizing he was being rude, Taekwoon forcefully cleared his throat and shook his head, wishing the beat of his heart would calm down a little. What did this mean? Who was this guy, and why did Taekwoon dream of him dying in another life?

No, that couldn't be... right. There were hundreds of people who shared that name. Just because he so happened to meet one of them after a near-death experience on the day after a nightmare, didn't mean they were the same person.

"Sorry, I—... Flashbacks..." he lied, and then reached to shake Wonsik's hand. "I'm Taekwoon."

There was no reaction or suspicion in Wonsik like Taekwoon (or if there was, it didn't show). Instead, he grinned like a fool and pulled out his phone.

"I know this is hella sudden, but d'you wanna grab coffee together sometime?"

Though the sear of his birthmark was a little distracting, Taekwoon was endeared by Wonsik's crooked grin. The idea of turning him down left a bad taste in his mouth, too. He felt like this was... necessary, almost. Like he needed to and _should_ get to know him. Because of that, he was almost hesitant to accept the invitation.

Apparently he waited a little too long to answer, too stuck in his thoughts, because Wonsik flushed and hunched his shoulders a bit.

"It's okay, you don't have to say—"

"No," Taekwoon said too quickly, "I mean... Yes. Yeah. That would be okay." He gestured to his pocket, "Should I...?"

"Yeah, yes!" Wonsik responded eagerly, and then caught himself bashfully at his exclamation. "Yeah, I'll just—"

Taekwoon pulled out his phone and let Wonsik put his contact information in. He liked the way his fingers moved. That was done and then a new message pinged his phone; a sunglasses emoji. Fitting.

"So I'll message you then?" Wonsik asked, grinning.

Taekwoon nodded. "I'll see how my schedule lines up. I should be free on Wednesday, I think..."

"Great!" Wonsik said, "I gotta get home now, my dog must be wondering where I am. I'll let you know!"

Before he could leave, Taekwoon stopped him. "Thank you... again, for saving my life..."

How did one repay this kind of debt? The guy _saved_ his life... He could've been dead by now. Was a simple thank you even enough?

"Anytime." Wonsik beamed, and it oddly seemed like he meant that. He waved a cheerful goodbye to Taekwoon and went to collect his things from the other ambulance.

The burn of his birthmark calmed down the farther away from each other they were, but when Wonsik stole one last glance at him, rubbing his chest, Taekwoon felt like he'd been shot.

•

•

•

 _"I gave everything to you, all you could desire, and you_ betrayed _me."_

_"Please..." His voice was weak and raspy, spent from having been kicked in the stomach. "Please spare him... It was my mistake, my fault." He fearfully glanced to the side where his love, his other half, was subjugated to his knees, curved blades at his throat._

_"Should I spare your life? Should I execute him and keep you at my side for the rest of your days?"_

_His heart plummeted into his stomach. The thought was more than he could bear, and the fear morphed into anger._

_"No!" he snarled. "I would rather_ die. _I would rather die than stay by your side, or be without him."_

_The face, the cruel, horrible face of his demise glowered at him. A sneer curled his mouth._

_"I can arrange that."_

_Fearful, he screamed out after the guards dragging Wonsik out of the room._

_"Worry not," said the man at the throne, "you will be together with your beloved soon."_

•

•

•

_"NO!"_

Taekwoon found himself sitting up, jerking his arms close. Every inch of his skin felt on fire, slick with sweat, rippling with his shakes. The terror he felt... It was so real—why was he so scared for the characters in his dreams? He cradled his flushed face in one hand; he knew the answer to that question.

He rolled the frustration out of his shoulders and flopped onto his stomach. The skin around his right shoulder blade felt raw and tender. One scratch could make it bleed, he didn't doubt.

...There had never been more to the story of that dream aside from having to watch Wonsik die. In all the nightmares he'd had up to this point, he couldn't recall another scene from that setting. It was odd that he had some kind of continuation of the dream to begin with. What made it even more weird was that the new part lined up with his meeting a _real_ Wonsik.

 _Real Wonsik,_ like the Wonsik from his dream and the one he met were the same person. The thought's progression was natural too, but he wanted to play it up to his drowsiness. Everything was just a coincidence.

He groaned into his pillow.

Between his lethargic mood and distracted head, Taekwoon barely managed to make it to his first class of the day—and sadly, was late to all of his other classes. The other students (top grading students, at that) seemed to scoff as his laziness, and he wouldn't be surprised if they ended up gossiping about him and how he probably got here just on his parents' money alone.

After lunch, he pulled out his phone to find a message notification, from Wonsik. His heart jumped at the sight, though it was confusing. The message read, _how's wednesday looking?_

Two days had passed since the accident and Taekwoon had been so drained and distracted that he forgot about Wonsik's proposal for an outing. It sounded... nice, he guessed, but he didn't know what to expect. Wonsik seemed like a nice guy, but Taekwoon didn't know if he had the energy or not to spend on him. ...Then again, the idea of turning him down still unsettled him. _That_ was the most perplexing part of all.

Not wanting to leave him on read, he tapped out a reply.

_I think wednesday will be alright_

A sole butterfly fluttered in his chest.

•

The days leading up to Wednesday passed in a blur of studying, drawling classes, and earth-shaking nightmares. No more added to the storyline built in Taekwoon's mind, and he slowly became convinced that he was forcing himself to have these dreams.

What made Wonsik—the real world's Wonsik—ask him out? Taekwoon wondered what kind of person he was. School took up so much of his time and sanity that he hadn't been interested in anyone for a while. He was a little out of practice (and wasn't even good at talking to people in the first place) but he hoped it would be an alright time and that Wonsik wouldn't mind his awkwardness.

That morning, Wonsik had checked in again to make sure it was still okay to go out, and then sent directions to a small shop not so far from where Taekwoon lived. While he dressed, he mapped his route in his head to distract himself from how nervous he was starting to feel.

This was nothing serious. Just a lighthearted meet-up with the person that saved his life—no big deal.

On his walk there, he listened to music to soothe his nerves that seemed to tighten the closer he got. He didn't know how to make _friends_ , people just... naturally gravitated to him to bother him and get that hilarious irritated reaction they liked so much. Did he even have a personality outside of classes? He was so tired that he couldn't remember. What a stupid question to ask himself.

Before he knew it, he was pulling one earbud out and the bell chimed his arrival. A few other people were settled at tables, but by the window was Wonsik with a laptop settled in front of him. He caught sight of Taekwoon and eager happiness took over his expression, making Taekwoon a little embarrassed. Hands pushing deeper into his coat pockets, he set forward.

Wonsik got up and pulled out the chair next to him.

Taekwoon took a step, but then everything swayed. Blurry images of someone offering him a seat at a low table and pouring him a drink, smiles and laughter late into the night, sitting on the wooden deck and watching the moon between the dancing branches, flashed through his mind. A voice, deep and warm with liquor, laughed next to his ear with a joy so tangible, it ran through his veins.

_"Whoa,"_

Hands were holding him steady when he came back to his senses. He blinked rapidly, trying to grasp what was real between the sudden visions and actually being in a coffee shop. Wonsik's face, concerned and confused, came into focus, and his mouth formed words Taekwoon needed to hear a second time.

"I said, are you alright?"

Wonsik helped set him upright near the chair next to his. A couple of other people were stealing glances, but Taekwoon couldn't bring himself to care; there was something overwhelming about Wonsik's touch. He shook his shoulders from the hold. Courteously, Wonsik spaced their bodies a bit.

Rolling out his neck, Taekwoon replied, "Yes... I'm sorry about that..."

Graciously, Wonsik didn't seem to hold it against him and offered an understanding smile. "It's finals week and all," he mentioned, "I'm surprised any of us are alive at all."

The joke swept some tension from Taekwoon's shoulders and he took the seat to right himself again. How embarrassing.

Wonsik took his seat too. "You didn't have trouble finding this place, did you? Hope it wasn't too far."

Taekwoon adjusted his jacket and shook his head. "It wasn't. I only live a couple of blocks away, so I've passed by here a few times."

"What a relief," he said, "I didn't even think about asking if you lived close or whatever... You ever come inside?"

Taekwoon said no because he drank coffee at home most of the time, and they talked about what they should order. It surprised Taekwoon that Wonsik waited; with his laptop out and programs opened, he had to have already been here for a little while. He hoped he hadn't made him wait, but it seemed like Wonsik didn't mind at all.

When Taekwoon prepped to go up to the counter, Wonsik put a hand up.

"I got it—I mean..." He cleared his throat. "I don't wanna be rude, but I invited you out and all during finals so... I figured I should treat you. Y'know... You could probably use a break and all that."

It went unsaid that he also meant, _After almost dying and all... Live a little relaxation?_

Taekwoon appreciated the sentiment.

After telling what he wanted to drink, he watched Wonsik go up to the counter. The whole situation had a surreal edge—either that, or Taekwoon wasn't coping with reality well. The dreams were interfering too much with how he processed reality, and it seemed like the only real thing to him lately was the burn of his birthmark. He pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Your latte, good sir." Wonsik presented charmingly, placing the cup in front of him.

Amusement quirked Taekwoon's lips.

As it turned out, they attended the same university, making both of them wonder why they'd never run into each other before. Their high schools had been relatively close, and even their birthplaces too. While Taekwoon was a film production major, Wonsik's was music—specifically composing and theory, so while they weren't too far off from each other, it made since that they hadn't crossed paths.

Taekwoon had never been much of a talker, but Wonsik was a natural. He went on for a while about his latest studies, and Taekwoon found himself enraptured with every word—besides his meager piano skills, he didn't know the smallest bit about music. Still, Wonsik explained everything eagerly and in a way easy to understand, going as far as to show him music sheet PDFs that he was transcribing with a digital mixing board onto an audio editor.

Wonsik laughed self-consciously. "Sorry, I must be boring you, huh?"

"Oh, no," Taekwoon answered, maybe too quickly. "I don't understand too well, but I like hearing you talk."

Realizing what he just said—which had been _seriously_ embarrassing—Taekwoon covered his mouth. His cheeks burned all the way up to the tips of his ears and his stomach flip-flopped.

Wonsik laughed again. "That was seriously cute." He patted Taekwoon gently on the shoulder. "It's okay, I say embarrassing things like, all the time..."

Steam was practically blowing from Taekwoon's ears, but he took a deep breath and tried to maintain what little dignity he had left. This was why he shouldn't be allowed to interact with people, he thought dismally. At least Wonsik didn't look like (or pretended not to) he minded much.

Wonsik tried to coax Taekwoon into talking about his own studies, but with the way his exams were going, it had him wishing he decided to be a hermit in the mountains instead. Wonsik's laugh was a refreshing, soul-soothing sound that Taekwoon started wanting to hoard all for himself. His back didn't hurt as much when he heard it.

An hour or two effortlessly passed with conversation that came just as easily, and the two of them found themselves standing outside the shop. The late afternoon was chilly and Taekwoon pulled his coat more snugly around him, but he felt... refreshed. Re-energized. This little outing had been something he sorely needed. He toed self-consciously at the sidewalk.

"...Thanks." he mumbled, tucking his face into his muffler.

Cheerfulness took over the brief confusion on Wonsik's face and he cracked a wide grin, rubbing at his chest. "I liked it too, we should do it again sometime, sunbae."

Taekwoon blushed at the honorific. "Hyung is fine." he mentioned, glancing up.

Wonsik brightened almost _too_ adorably, blinding him more than the sun. His heart jumped.

"Hyung, okay." he replied happily. "We should get together again after finals are over. You'll still be alive then, yeah?"

"Heh... I'll try. You too?"

"If I get to see hyung again, definitely."

On the way home, Taekwoon pretended his heart wasn't bouncing all over the place.

•

•

•

_It was the night they first kissed._

_They both had a little too much to drink, indulging themselves while trying to set aside the stresses of being an aristocrat's personal guard. It was fortunate they were allowed little reprieves like this in the first place._

_There had always been a certain closeness between them, ever since they first met. He had trained Wonsik upon his admittance to the guard and oversaw his progress as a budding guardian; it was impressive. Though he'd been a solitary guardian himself, Wonsik insisted on following him around at some point, and it seemed he couldn't be seen without Wonsik trailing behind. Others made good fun about it._

_Suffice to say, Taekwoon had grown fond of Wonsik. He considered him a close friend, a confident, someone he could depend on; a partner through thick and thin. His most secret hope was that Wonsik felt the same way._

_He was laughing. Leaning on him and making silly jokes about their squadron. Liquor's daze was a bit too thick and shone a glow on everything, easing Taekwoon in that odd way only alcohol could._

_"You could be captain," Wonsik murmured eventually. "Captain Sangbae is getting up there in years, y'know."_

_Taekwoon pushed Wonsik's shoulders."Do not say such things. I'm not fit to be captain, and I'm certainly not after anyone's position. I like this just fine, thank you very much."_

_Wonsik hummed, rolling right back into Taekwoon's side. "Sure, but... You definitely are amazing, Taekwoon-hyung..." His words were slurred together, but the sincerity was all there. "I would follow you anywhere."_

_"Mmm... Thank you. I'm—" Taekwoon hiccuped, making Wonsik laugh. "—glad to hear it." He glanced up to the moon from the slow ripples of the pond. "The night is beautiful. Good for drinking."_

_"Yeah..." Wonsik sighed tiredly. "Beautiful, like you, hyung."_

_The words pinched Taekwoon with a bit of sobriety, and he blinked with confusion. He pulled back and Wonsik slid off him, whining. He flopped onto the wooden floor. Taekwoon stared._

_"Why did you do that?" Wonsik complained, rubbing his head._

_It could have been only the alcohol, but the faint glow on Wonsik's bronze skin, soft like the moonlight and warm like the candlelight, cast him as ethereal. Without much thought, Taekwoon leaned down._

_"Hyung...?"_

•

•

•

Taekwoon found himself recalling the dream, _yet again,_ on the one morning he hadn't woken up screaming or crying. That would be fine and dandy and all, if it wasn't in the _middle of his theory final._ He repressed a groan, trying to get a grasp on his thoughts before every piece of his studying flew away.

When the grueling two hours were over, Taekwoon crouched against the wall of the building, letting the cold air slap some life back into him. His brain felt like mush and it was a surprise his legs worked at all. It was a relief though—just one more exam to get through and...

A blush tickled his cheeks and he pretended it was from the nippy chill.

He would get to go out with Wonsik again.

On his way home, Taekwoon considered what a coincidence it was that the other person in his dream was named Wonsik. Did they even look alike? Other than the name, recalling physical features was a bit of a trial. Things were clear as day in the dreams, but after he woke up, there was little but hazy images left over

Did Wonsik have these dreams too? That was his hopefulness talking—it couldn't be. Would Wonsik be more obvious about something like that? Taekwoon didn't know him well enough to determine that.

 _Why_ was he having these dreams?

When he unlocked his door and stepped inside his box apartment, he paused. A sudden realization made him groan and pinch his nose.

Maybe it was just because his parents raised him to write off anything obscenely strange elders said, but there was something his grandmother once told him when he was very little that he more or less ignored. She had been the type of woman that people sought out for spiritual advice, a mudang1 of sorts; the type his parents wanted to keep away from.

He couldn't have been more than eight, a time when it was still normal that she would babysit him after school because his parents were so busy with work and his older sisters. Her friends were often curious about what kind of child he was, considering him a strange _thing_ because he was so quiet and rebelled in little ways, like dyeing his hair. He remembered hearing them gossip about him, about how there was a kind of... sadness following him around. His grandmother seemed to egg the idea on, looking at him with pity when she thought he wouldn't notice.

It had started when she told her friends about his birthmark. At the time, he didn't understand what was so important about it, just that his parents insisted the geometrical hard lines were normal and became upset when any other idea behind them was mentioned. They didn't want his head filled with weird ideas about it, but...

One summer evening, when the cicadas cried louder outside than normal, his grandmother muted the television and asked him to listen carefully. She had been sorry if she made him worry about his birthmark, and that it was nothing to worry about, but instead a blessing. In his past life, she explained, he had suffered a terrible fate and his death branded him with that mark to ensure that in his next life, he would be able to find the one he died for. It was destiny.

What she said was too confusing and slightly uncomfortable for him, so he pushed it out of his mind back then. He never dared tell his parents anything about it because they would have thrown a fit, so with a secret like that under wraps, he all but forgot about it.

Until now.

He flopped onto his springy bed face first.

...What were the odds that this had something to do with everything? If only his grandmother was still alive to ask her about it.

That night, after more rigorous last-minute studying, his sleep was dreamless.

•

•

•

Regardless, he was still groggy. His eyelids were stubborn and heavy, and he bumped into literally every single wall available while getting ready.

Today was the day, the last of his exams, and he was so ready to get it over with. Though his grades had always been good—great, even—this semester had unexpectedly taken so much out of him that he dreaded the results. He'd probably wait until the very end of winter break to find out how he did. Surely he was just being paranoid.

On the bright side, the last of the exams meant getting to see Wonsik again. It had been a few days since their little coffee outing, and even though they messaged on and off, Taekwoon was already feeling a little too attached. That couldn't be healthy.

Eagerness renewed, Taekwoon downed two cups of coffee and headed on his merry way to face what possibly might be his doom.

It turned out that the exam wasn't as hard as he'd thought it would be—either that or he completely bombed it by thinking he knew most of the right answers. It was best not to dwell on too long, he decided after turning it into the TA proctor.

As soon as he was outside, he turned his head up to the murky sky with closed eyes and inhaled so deeply, he got lightheaded. He laughed at his own little stumble down the stairs and a nearby student gave him a strange look. Exams were _over._ He was _free._ The fact that he even made it out of there alive was incredible. This achievement deserved a reward, frankly.

Self-reward came in the form of taking out his phone and picking out his chatroom with Wonsik. He wondered if he had any exams today or if he was finished too. Maybe he wouldn't be done until tomorrow? He would send a simple message, nothing too... _obvious._

Obvious about what? He... liked Wonsik. As a friend, or maybe more already (but he didn't have the energy to think about that right now).

 _I'm finally free,_ he typed.

The little _1_ next to his message disappeared instantly.

> **aceravi:** _must be fate because i just got out too kekekeke_
> 
> **jung tw:** _Congratulations on being alive_
> 
> **aceravi:** _you too hyung_

Taekwoon bit his lip. He didn't want to ask, but... Who was he kidding, of course he wanted to ask if Wonsik wanted to meet up. He was so bad at this that he didn't know how he ever got dates as a teenager.

Just as he was about to force himself to type up the question, Wonsik messaged first.

> **aceravi:** _wanna meet up? my treat :D_

The whole concept of Wonsik constantly treating him to things was a good one, Taekwoon decided, but he shouldn't take advantage of that. He was just glad Wonsik had the same idea as him because he would've inevitably fucked up the question somehow.

> **jung tw:** _Yeah that's fine. I'll treat this time tho :) It's only right as your hyung_
> 
> **aceravi:** _really?? wooow so noble hyung youre great :DDD i'll send you directions to a place near campus!!_

When Taekwoon's screen went dark, he could see his bright smile back at himself and ducked his head. Whether or not his dreams meant anything, he was getting in too deep.

Reigning himself in a bit, he opened his phone to check the location Wonsik sent him. It was a small noodle bar that he hadn't been to before, but was close to home nonetheless. His stomach growled.

One wrong turn and a reroute later, Taekwoon found Wonsik standing in front of the restaurant with his hands in his coat pockets, cutely shifting his weight. Earbuds were plugged into his ears, so Taekwoon didn't bother calling for him and just went over. Wonsik caught sight of him eventually and his face lit up.

"You're here!" he grinned. "You look great for someone that just got out of a death match with paper and pen."

Taekwoon cracked a grin at the joke. He looked to the sign of the restaurant. "Have you been here before?"

Wonsik shrugged. "A couple times with some other friends. Since you said you would treat me, I picked some place cheap!" he laughed, but then said, "The prices are really good for the food."

The consideration for his wallet warmed Taekwoon a little. "You didn't have to do that," he said, "I did say I would treat you, I can handle it."

"Guess I'll just have to order the most expensive thing on the menu then, huh?" Wonsik snickered.

Warm air breezed onto them when the bell chimed their entrance and Taekwoon worked his jacket off. The inside smelled _divine;_ proper meals hadn't exactly been at the top of his priorities lately. Hopefully Wonsik wouldn't be too put off if he inhaled his first two bowls.

They put their orders in, found a seat, and chatted about how they thought their own exams went. Wonsik was worried about one of them, but then said how he did well on his presentation exams and felt proud of himself. Taekwoon liked his confidence a lot, and mentioned how he wished he could share it.

"I bet you did great, hyung." Wonsik said, "You worried a lot about it, so you probably paid more attention."

"Thanks..."

Not long later, their order was called out and Wonsik offered to get up and get it. Chin in palm, Taekwoon watched him walk to the pickup counter and stared long and hard at his back. The memories of his grandmother decided to pick this time for more mulling over whatever the hell they meant.

"Destiny" had never really been his thing; he hardly spared thoughts to philosophical ideas like that because who could be sure of what anything meant? But there had to be something behind his meeting Wonsik. There had to be a reason warmth bloomed in his chest whenever he so much as thought about him. Or why his back burned when he would look at him and remember the nightmares.

He sighed.

"Everything cool?" Wonsik asked as he sat down with their food.

Taekwoon blinked and sat straight. "Ah, sorry... I spaced out..."

Wonsik smiled, "I saw you staring so passionately at me at the bar, hyung. Am I that handsome?" He shimmied his shoulders cheekily.

Taekwoon rolled his eyes and picked up his chopsticks.

They ate and drank with companionable conversation. Wonsik did most of the talking because one, he had a lot to say about things he liked, and two, Taekwoon could probably listen to him for the rest of his life; they hit every topic from recent national news to campy cult classics. The food was gone and the drinks rolled in a little more, and they started talking about childhood and things they thought shaped them as who they were now.

Getting so deep into conversation was kind of stupid, Taekwoon thought, but pleasantly buzzed as he was, he could hardly find it in himself to care. Talking to Wonsik was easy as breathing—most days, he didn't even want to look at his neighbors, let alone talk to them.

Wonsik had fallen quiet sometime during his woolgathering and was fidgeting with his glass, tipping it on its base and watching the soju swirl. Just as Taekwoon was about to ask if something was wrong, he spoke.

"Hey hyung... Do you... believe in fate?" He glanced up at Taekwoon hesitantly. The sun had begun to set outside not long ago.

The question sparked Taekwoon's nerves and he looked at Wonsik with surprise. Shoulders rigid, he asked, "...What do you mean?"

The glass sat back flat. Wonsik breathed out. "Sorry, that's weird... It's not even that late..." He glanced out the window to divert the topic, but Taekwoon wanted him to go on. He was almost _eager_ for him to go on. Maybe a restaurant wasn't the right place for it? It was a bit slimy of him, but...

"Do you live close to here?" he asked.

Eyebrows raised, Wonsik nodded. "Yeah, why?"

Taekwoon shot down the rest of his drink and made a show of looking at his watch. "I live a little farther from here than I'd like... Since I'm kind of drunk, I don't want to go all that way..." Inviting himself to Wonsik's was rude and so was burdening him with obligations to say yes, but the alcohol absolved him of the guilt.

"Oh, do you wanna stay over today?"

"Would that be okay?"

"Are you okay with mess? You're not allergic to dogs, are you?"

Taekwoon thought back to his own apartment, and what chaos his room was. "I wouldn't worry... My room looks like a hurricane tore through it. And no, I'm not—I have a dog at my parents' house too."

Wonsik laughed a little, then looked at his watch too. Taekwoon saw a tattoo poke out from under his sleeve. "Should we get going then? It's getting dark..."

"Yeah."

After stacking their dishes and trays neatly, Taekwoon paid. Wonsik waited for him outside and he wondered to himself if he was doing something right. How could Wonsik ask a question like that after Taekwoon had been thinking about the very same thing? Things were lining up weirdly and the longer he went without knowing, the more anxious he was. Even if Wonsik didn't have the same frame of thoughts as him, getting it off his chest with him would be a big relief.

The cold air outside sobered him up a little and he pushed away reconsideration that he was overstepping his boundaries, but... Were there so many with the guy who saved his life to begin with?

"Smells so fresh out here." Wonsik said, stretching out.

Taekwoon held himself back from asking if it was really alright if he could stay over again.

Wonsik lived only fifteen minutes away by foot, and on the bottom floor thankfully. Taekwoon didn't know if he had it in him to climb stairs after all today drained him of.

"Like I said, it's kinda messy, but..."

Before he could continue, there was an excited yapping. A stocky white dog bounded out from the back room, circling Wonsik once and then leaping towards Taekwoon.

"Ah, Butt-Butt, calm down." Wonsik chided when the dog scampered back towards him.

Taekwoon raised an eyebrow. "...Butt-Butt?"

Wonsik paused to clear his throat. "Yeah, Butt... That's his... That's his name." He covered his face and Taekwoon laughed.

The squat little thing jumped back for him when he bent down to let him sniff out his hand. He licked his fingers and Taekwoon cooed, missing his own pup back home. This breed of dog matched Wonsik a lot, he thought.

"He's adorable."

Butt scampered back off after Wonsik and Taekwoon took a look around. The apartment wasn't so bad at all; just like Taekwoon's own college-neglected apartment, and it smelled fine too.

"Thank you for letting me stay, I know it was sudden."

"No big, hyung. It's a one-bedroom, so I don't have a roommate." he smiled. Taekwoon was grateful for that too; he hadn't even considered it in the first place.

He left his bag and shoes by the door and shed his coat. Wonsik offered him something to drink and then went to go put his stuff away. Taekwoon led himself to the couch and plopped down, melting into it and feeling every piece of himself turn to mush. This morning seemed so far away now. He was still tipsy.

Wonsik came back into the room, Butt following, adjusting the wide collar of his long-sleeved shirt. Taekwoon tilted his head just in time to see another tattoo, words splayed along his collarbone, and below that: a circle, a line down the center—his eyes widened. But Wonsik covered both marks up before he could discern what it really was. He sat up abruptly. Wonsik looked at him, confused.

He forced himself to lean back. "Sorry, my side cramped up."

Wonsik grinned. "I could give you a massage." he offered cheekily. Taekwoon rolled his eyes as he watched him go over to the kitchenette. "You thirsty? I got... water and juice."

"Some water, please. Thanks."

While Wonsik got them both a drink, Taekwoon chewed at his bottom lip in thought. He wondered how inebriated Wonsik was, and if it was enough to pull some of that _fate_ conversation he was suddenly more interested in.

"Yeah."

Turning around with cups, Wonsik raised an eyebrow and asked, "Yeah, what?"

Taekwoon cleared his throat. "Yes... I do believe in fate."

The answer put hesitance in Wonsik's step, but he covered it up with a goofy grin. "Ah, right... Sorry, that was a dumb question, huh?"

Taekwoon's legs curled up onto the couch and he took the cup he was handed. It was too cold, so he only sipped at it with disinterest. "No, I don't think it is."

Wonsik sat down in front of the worn coffee table, at the base of the couch while Butt leaped up to curl behind him. Taekwoon spotted a third (fourth?) tattoo crawling up the knobs of his spine, to his neck. The skin there was probably soft and warm. Wonsik sighed.

"It's just... Hmm, how should I put it..." He tilted his head forward and Taekwoon watched the black barb of the ink stretch. "There's... someone I met recently and I can't help but feel like it was... supposed to happen?" He shook his head bashfully, hunching his shoulders a little. "I know it sounds dumb."

Searching for the right words, Taekwoon opened and closed his mouth. They hadn't known each other long, so was it really right to get into this kind of personal conversation? Then again, he was a hyung to Wonsik, so it was only right he lend his advice, or at the very least let him lay it out a little on him.

"It doesn't." He shook his head, though Wonsik couldn't see it. "How do you, ah, feel like it was supposed to happen?"

With another sigh, Wonshik shrugged. "It's just a feeling. I'unno. You ever get those dreams that like, mean something but you don't realize it until afterward?"

That question triggered every one of Taekwoon's nightmares intruding his mind for a split second and he shivered. He understood what Wonsik was saying, but... Did Wonsik realize he was feeling almost exactly that towards him? Who could it be Wonsik was aiming his pondering at?

"I think so." he said quietly.

Wonsik glanced back at him thoughtfully. "Ah well... Wanna watch a movie?"

Of course, Taekwoon wanted to press him for more, but he knew that'd be pushing his boundaries and he didn't want to make Wonsik uncomfortable. For now, it was better to drop it—but those black lines under the written tattoo on his collarbone... Could it be...?

No, that wasn't possible.

Without any other topic to explore, they began deciding what movie to pick out. Taekwoon was pretty straight-faced at scary movies, but Wonsik absolutely ruled them out, admitting he was kind of a chicken about them.

Eventually, they settled on an action comedy that featured one of Wonsik's favorite actors. The movie was about twenty minutes in when Taekwoon began to doze off. The end of the semester had taken so much out of him, and no matter how hard he tried (partly for the sake of listening to Wonsik's laugh because his love for it was already unhealthy) to stay away, gravity took its toll on his eyelids. He lounged on the uncomfortable arm of the couch and the audio to the movie fuzzed.

•

•

•

_He laughed into Wonsik's mouth. "Shh, we must be quiet."_

_"No one will catch us, loosen up a little." Wonsik pressed him up against the solid wall next to the hay. "All the other guardians are having a drink together... They probably don't even know we're gone."_

_"Yes, but we are disappearing together all the time. I don't want to pique anyone's suspicion." A muted noise pushed from his throat when Wonsik's arms squeezed his waist._

_This they had been doing often recently: sneaking off to be together, finding each other's rooms and tents and feeling each other's bodies. No one seemed to have noticed so far, and if they had, gossip was silent._

_To say being caught didn't frighten Taekwoon was a lie, but with Wonsik's lighthearted attitude towards it all, he tried not to stress himself over it so much._

_"I know, I know..." Wonsik murmured into his neck, breaking out goosebumps all over Taekwoon's skin. "But I can't seem to keep my hands off you..."_

_"For shame." Taekwoon playfully chastised. "A guardian should have much more self-control than this." Hands slipped under his loose dongdari 2 and he exhaled shakily, exhilarated._

_"Well... My teacher doesn't set the_ greatest _example, you know."_

_Taekwoon breathed a little laugh and then loosened Wonsik's dongdari from the wrap around his waist._

_"Do you really want to do it here...? So perverted, hyung."_

_"You're forcing my hand, to be completely frank."_

_Their shared body heat pushed Taekwoon's desire to feel every inch of Wonsik's skin on his, but before he could bring forth those fantasies, a small gasp intruded the space around them._

_Shocked, Taekwoon pushed Wonsik away and looked to the stable's opening. Someone ducked out of the doorway and Taekwoon's stomach lurched. Horrified, he whispered what he'd just seen, and then they took off together to find whoever it was that spotted them._

•

•

•

"Hyung, hey..." Wonsik's voice was fuzzy through Taekwoon's sleepiness. "Hey, wake up. You alright?"

"Huh...?" He could barely understand what he was being asked. Something wet tickled his fingers.

The room was dark, save the dim light coming from the kitchenette. He blinked blearily at Wonsik, belatedly realizing he wasn't wearing a shirt. Butt was licking at his hand.

"You fell asleep during the movie—I mean, not that I blame you, you were seriously tired... The circles under your eyes... Anyway, you were making these, like, upset noises in your sleep." Wonsik explained, and Taekwoon tried to sit up, reaching for the cup of water he'd hardly touched. The water was warmer now, thankfully. "I think you said something like... _'They caught us'_? I'm not sure..."

Memories of his dream _slammed_ back into him and the horror at the revelation of being caught doing something forbidden of his dream-self immediately surged forward. He gagged and Butt whimpered, hopping off the couch to hide behind his owner.

"Whoa, hey," Wonsik said, kneeling. "what's wrong? Did you have too much to drink? You're... shaking?"

He flinched at Wonsik's cautious touch. The dim light allowed only a scarce view of Wonsik's expression, but it wasn't hard to see his worry. His own body was broken out in a cold sweat. His eyes naturally fell to Wonsik's bare chest, and—

There it was. Taekwoon's birthmark. On Wonsik's chest.

_Taekwoon's birthmark on Wonsik's chest._

"I need to leave." he said, suddenly standing up. Butt jumped out of the way to avoid Wonsik nearly falling back on him, and Wonsik braced himself on the coffee table.

"Hyung, wait!" he called. "What's wrong? What happened?" He sounded so _concerned._

 _Why_ was Taekwoon's birthmark _on his chest?_ An exact replica. Same thick black lines. Same geometric shape. Same _everything._ Why was it there?

At the door and about to open it, the sound of rain registered in his ears, and it was coming down hard. Lightning promptly flashed outside.

"It's... It's raining..." he said helplessly, and looked over his shoulder. Wonsik stood near the coffee table, and Taekwoon could make out the shape of his body just barely, but the lines resembling his birthmark stood out like a blinding light in the night.

"Yeah, I was gonna say..." Wonsik responded mildly. "...Are you alright?"

Taekwoon shrugged helplessly. "I think I drank too much." he lied lamely. It put some slack to Wonsik's shoulders.

"Oh... You're bad at drinking too, huh?" He smiled understandingly. "It's late now anyway, maybe we should sleep?"

Taekwoon glanced at the couch again behind Wonsik before his eyes found the mark again. The darkness covered for the fact that Taekwoon wasn't even looking at Wonsik's face.

"You could crash on my bed and I'll take the couch, if you want."

"N-No, this is... That's fine, I'll sleep on the couch. Thanks for letting me stay..." he mumbled. Having tried to leave when it was _raining_ was just embarrassing...

"It's okay, hyung, you don't gotta thank me." He turned to his room. "I got an extra heated blanket for you too."

As soon as he disappeared, Taekwoon sagged against the wall. What the _fuck_ did it mean that Wonsik had the _exact same_ birthmark as him? He scrubbed his face with his hands.

Little by little and against his will, he was buying more into his grandmother's seemingly wild tales of destiny and meeting who he lost in his last life. Was stuff like that _actually_ real? This wasn't just some elaborate joke she was playing on him from the grave, right? If she ever said something about his fated meeting with someone else who shared his birthmark, he must've missed it.

Wonsik cut his thoughts short by returning with the heated blanket and a pillow.

"The couch isn't the most comfortable, you sure you'll be alright?"

Taekwoon pushed off the wall and walked over to plop down after Wonsik laid out the stuff. Wonsik rubbed the back of his neck, a little awkwardly.

"Well, if you need something, just knock, I guess... I sleep with the door closed."

"Afraid of monsters?" Taekwoon found it in himself to tease.

"Definitely not." Wonsik puffed his chest, and Taekwoon forced himself not to look at his birthmark. "Goodnight hyung." he said, going to the kitchenette to flick off the light. Taekwoon watched him move. He was so tall.

"Goodnight Wonsik. Thanks for letting me stay." He wrapped himself up with the blanket.

Wonsik lingered in the doorway, unabashedly staring, and then shook his head to himself.

•

•

•

_"Who did you tell?!"_

_Though he was Wonsik's superior, Taekwoon had never seen him loose his composure. He had always been calm and collected, even easy-going, Taekwoon would go as far to say. But after Taekwoon explained what happened in the stables, Wonsik rushed whoever had spotted them—a trainee guardian—and pinned him up against a stone wall. The poor boy was shaking._

_"No one!" he cried, gripping Wonsik's arm to ground himself. "I swear I haven't told a soul!"_

_"Is this the first time?!" Wonsik growled, and then again when the trainee looked confused. "Is this the first time you've spied on us?!"_

_"I promise it is!"_

_Sensing the fearful sincerity from the boy, Taekwoon gently touched Wonsik's shoulder._

_"That's enough, I believe he's telling the truth."_

_"But hyung, we—"_

_Wonsik drew up short at Taekwoon's hardened expression. He squared his jaw and let the boy go, who was clearly longing to escape._

_"Hold on a moment." Taekwoon said, and ushered Wonsik out of the way. The boy looked impossibly more terrified of Taekwoon. "Do not misunderstand what you saw... And if you have, don't breathe a word of it to another soul. I do not make idle threats, this I promise you."_

_With eyes wide and damp, the trainee nodded. Taekwoon stepped back to give him space._

_"Now that we're at an understanding, should you not be preparing for bed? Off with you."_

_The boy nodded again, bowing a little too deep, and then scuttled off. Both of them watched him disappear into the bamboo path back to the guardian trainee quarters._

_Dispirited, Wonsik slumped against the stone wall. "Can we trust him?"_

_Taekwoon folded his hands behind his back. The nearby torches cast a melancholic light on both of them. Steam rose from their breath._

_"I hope so."_

•

•

•

Taekwoon opened his eyes. He was breathing fast, but he wasn't covered in a cold sweat like he usually was when he woke up. Only a vague anxiety over being caught doing something he shouldn't have been doing stuck around.

As he rolled over on the uneven couch, he didn't quite feel like himself. Mind thick with sleep, limbs heavy with exhaustion, he felt that his body set him aside to realign itself and he didn't like it. He groaned.

The bedroom door open and he froze as a knee-jerk reaction. There were no footsteps. He heard Wonsik sigh.

"We couldn't trust him..." he muttered aloud, unaware that Taekwoon was awake.

 _Couldn't trust...?_ Taekwoon thought groggily.

The door closed again and he was alone.

Sitting up swayed his head, but he pushed himself against the cushions and dug deeper into his blanket. Thankfully, it was warm and didn't add to his unease. He didn't feel much like himself and couldn't help but blame it on the dreams.

Dawn, soft and quiet, was rising outside of the thin, powder blue curtains on the window. The room seemed colder. He sighed to himself.

So far, he figured out that he—the Taekwoon of his dreams—and the Wonsik of his dreams had some sort of... _relationship,_ and it was supposed to have been a secret. They were caught (as people usually are, he guessed) and he could only imagine the repercussions of that.

Sleep clouded his mind, but his body was still alert; a sense of danger and wariness still lingered.

If he connected all of the dreams he'd had so far... His dream self and the dream-Wonsik had been put to death for their romantic relationship being found out.

A pain shot through him, sudden and sharp, and he hissed and slumped over.

"What the fuck..." he rasped to himself, reaching over his shoulder and into his shirt to touch the flaring skin over his shoulder blade. "Fuck..."

The pain yanked him back into his body and effectively slapped him awake, and then was gone moments later. He collapsed backwards, panting at all energy it had sapped, and curled his legs into himself. He felt so miserable.

For another hour (or two, he couldn't keep track), Taekwoon laid curled up in a state between wakefulness and sleep. He drifted in and out, the room brightening more the longer he went on like that.

Finally, the bedroom door opened again. Wonsik shuffled out and Taekwoon rolled over. He heard a beep from the direction of the kitchenette.

"Wonder if I should wake him..."

Taekwoon grunted.

"m'Already awake..."

"Oh, hyung. Good morning." he greeted more cheerfully.

Taekwoon grunted again.

"Not a morning person, huh?"

"Not when I don'have ta be..." he mumbled.

Curious, he peeked open an eye, only to be disappointed when he saw Wonsik was wearing the same long-sleeved shirt from last night. Only a few letters from the collarbone tattoo were peeking out. Asking about the birthmark would be weird and bad form, probably.

"I'm not much of one either," Wonsik snorted, "but I _am_ making coffee, so, y'know... If you want in on that and all..."

At the mention of coffee, Taekwoon inevitably perked up. Since he was curled in on himself, Wonsik got comfortable on the other side of the couch. Butt's nails tapped across the wooden floor into the room and soon, he hopped up between them to curl into Wonsik's thigh.

"Did you sleep alright? Wasn't too bad, was it?"

Taekwoon shrugged as much as his cramped position would let him. If he uncurled, he'd get cold.

"ve'Had worse." he teased, and almost reached out to nudge Wonsik's thigh with his foot before he remembered Butt was there. He cleared his throat. "...Thank you again for letting me stay. I'm sorry about last night..."

Wonsik chuckled. "s'Okay, we both drank a little too much. Guess we're both lightweights, huh?"

"Mmm."

The coffee maker beeped again and Wonsik got up, making Butt snort in annoyance. Taekwoon watched him move around and when he saw the barbed line running up his neck, an idea of how to ask about the birthmark popped into his head—but that wasn't really an appropriate thing to talk about or ask over morning coffee, was it? He tucked the thought away for later. It was still baffling to him how all of this had come to be.

"How do you like yours?" Wonsik asked.

Taekwoon unwillingly took himself out of the blanket burrito, but when Wonsik heard his movement, he said, "No, really. I can do it for you, hyung. Just tell me how you like it."

Taekwoon paused and a small blush rose on his cheeks. How thoughtful...

Later, their mugs were empty and they'd been passing the time watching a movie that showed up one one of the channels. Taekwoon couldn't stop stealing glances at Wonsik, and it could've been his imagination, but Wonsik was doing the same. A few humorous comments were made about how cheesy the movie was, but they were mostly quiet. Not long went by before Taekwoon felt like he was overstaying his welcome.

"I'm not kicking you out." Wonsik said when Taekwoon was ready to leave.

"I know." Taekwoon replied.

"You sure you... don't wanna stay longer?" Wonsik shifted his weight and rubbed the back of his neck. Taekwoon kept his thoughts from trailing off into how good he looked, hair tousled and dressed lazily.

"Really, thanks for letting me stay, but I need to shower and change and sleep for the rest of my life." He quirked a corner of his lips.

Wonsik mirrored his grin, though it was a little restrained. "Get home safely then." he said as he opened the door. "I don't wanna intrude too much, but message me when you get home? It'll make me feel better." He pouted his bottom lip.

Good-naturedly, Taekwoon sighed. "Yeah, I will." He then bent down to pet Butt, who tilted his head at him. "See you next time, Butt-Butt."

Wonsik scoffed at the teasing.

Taekwoon left, even though he didn't want too all that much.

Just like Wonsik asked, he messaged him when he got home. Of course, Wonsik didn't say it had to be as soon as he got in the door, but Taekwoon wanted to anyway. Their next meeting was already on his mind.

He spent the rest of the day unwinding from all that he'd been through, which wasn't all that much if he thought about it. The dreams were just taking a lot out of him, but now that it was winter break, he could take all the time he needed to recuperate.

Face-flat on his own bed, it occurred to him that he needed to go home to visit his family, but that meant...

How deep was he in if he was weighing staying around for Wonsik against going home to see his _family?_ This was ridiculous. Were his grandmother still alive and kicking, the decision would be easier because of the incentive—his questions answered, his birthmark explained in more depth—it provided, but without her... His parents wanted nothing to do with her mystical beliefs. He wondered if Wonsik had any relatives that told him about his birthmark.

•

•

•

_"I'm worried." Wonsik confided in him one night._

_The day had been particularly strenuous after foiling an assassination attempt on their liege and then receiving five new trainees. The boy they had threatened into secrecy before—Baewoo was his name—had matured enough to begin spearhead assisting trainees adjust to their new lives, and seemed normal as ever. That was what bothered Wonsik, Taekwoon supposed._

_He knew Wonsik blamed himself for their being caught, for exposing them because he could not control himself. Taekwoon tried time and again to assure him that it was natural, and possibly even bound to happen, but Wonsik worried more and more with every passing day. It did begin to rub off on Taekwoon._

_Neither of them tried to approach Baewoo again, although they had every reason and usual circumstance to. Taekwoon feared that if they pushed him too much, he would expose them out of fear for his own life. Baewoo treated both of them normally, with respect and reverence of their positions, and nothing more. He didn't explicitly avoid them either, and Taekwoon had to wonder if perhaps he'd forgotten all of what he saw._

_"Don't be." Taekwoon replied, although he knew it was useless. "Worrying will only distract you from your duties, and after today, we must be on our guard more than ever."_

_Wonsik's shoulders sagged. "I understand..."_

_The flickering fire reflecting off his face weighed on Taekwoon's heart, and he allowed himself a moment of softness to run his fingers through Wonsik's hair._

_"I understand your worry, and I share it... But we cannot waste time fretting over what may or may not be. Let's enjoy what we have now, yes?"_

_It was for his sake, he knew, but Wonsik's expression lifted and he nuzzled into Taekwoon's touch when it ran down to his cheek._

_A nearby wall of bamboo rustled, followed by footsteps running off. Neither of them noticed._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mudang1: Stems from the word "mu", which is a Korean shaman-priest. Mudang is mainly used for female shaman-priests in modern society.  
> dongdari2: A robe worn by men in the military during the Joseon dynasty.
> 
> Since the fic is split into three parts (+epilogue), I'll be posting the second part after I'm done editing, likely tomorrow. Look forward to it! Thanks for reading!


	2. Flip A Coin and All Your Wishes Will Come True

Taekwoon woke up again and it was morning... again. He didn't remember falling asleep. He looked at his phone and found a notification from Wonsik.

> **aceravi:** _didnt even ask but are u going home for the holidays??_

7:38AM. The clock read 10:16AM now. Did Wonsik always wake up so early?

He sent a voice message in reply, too tired to type.

"Haven't decided yet... Whu'bout you...?"

Another message pinged.

> **aceravi:** _!!! a voice message from hyung! i must be special_
> 
> **aceravi:** _hyung has a cute sleepy voice_
> 
> **aceravi:** _& idk either. not to get personal but i dont get along w my family so good_

Taekwoon blinked at the part about him being cute and groaned to himself. Wonsik was so... forward. It was charming, but also infinitely embarrassing.

Meanwhile, the part about Wonsik not getting along with his family gave Taekwoon an... idea. He would have to ask of course, as to not intrude on his parents, but he was sure they wouldn't mind it. Their house was big enough to host all of them, after all.

That was how, almost a week later, Wonsik ended up going with Taekwoon home. He'd been flustered and constantly asked if it was really alright that he intruded. Taekwoon explained how his parents were always happy to meet and host any friends of his—they were convinced he couldn't make any to begin with. Wonsik worried about where he would sleep, too, offering to go as far as sleeping on the couch, but Taekwoon said if it really came down to it, they could either share his old room, or he would lend him his bed. It wasn't a big deal.

Though he kept a good lid on it, Taekwoon was ecstatic about Wonsik coming home with him. Coming to terms with it was embarrassing, but...

If nothing else connected them, then what was left was Taekwoon's crush on Wonsik.

"By the way," Taekwoon said when they were at his house's gate. "Let's... not mention that I almost died and you saved me, okay? I never told my parents and they would probably freak out a lot."

Wonsik grinned in understanding. "It's only right that you bring your savior home to meet your parents though." he teased, motioning at his neck like he was fixing a suit and tie. Taekwoon rolled his eyes, but he wasn't too wrong about that.

"Taekwoonie!" his mom greeted jovially, throwing her arms around him and nearly knocking him over. "You're home! Dear, Taekwoon's here!"

After kissing his cheeks an almost excessive amount of times, Mrs. Jung seemed to realize Wonsik was right next to him.

"Oh, you must be Wonsik!" she cheered. "Taekwoon, you didn't tell me he was so _handsome."_

"Mom, don't crowd him." Taekwoon said as Wonsik thanked Mrs. Jung for the endless compliments about his good features and build.

The door opened wider and Taekwoon's dad appeared, smiling and deepening the lines in his face.

"It's good to see you, son." he said, and they hugged. "Did you have an easy trip?"

While his mom continued cooing over Wonsik and asking him questions about how school was and Taekwoon, Taekwoon talked to his dad about their trip. Everyone going home for the holidays made it more hellish than it normally would've been, and he was going to be traumatized from having to navigate bus routes that weren't jam-packed, but it hadn't been so long.

There'd be no admitting it, but Taekwoon was glad Wonsik agreed to come along; he didn't think he could've handled planning the trip on his own. His brain was still recovering from being mashed by exams, after all, and Wonsik seemed to walk away unscathed for the most part.

Excited feet scuttled over the wood floor from down the hall.

"Siwol!" Taekwoon exclaimed, and a fluffy white dog appeared, wagging its tail and yipping. Wonsik cooed and Taekwoon looked at him with surprised from his place crouched.

"It's your dog!" Wonsik wiped fake tears away, bending down to let the dog get familiar with his presence. "Siwol, though?"

Taekwoon narrowed his eyes. "I don't want to hear that from _you._ You named your dog _Butt._ "

Pretending he hadn't heard him, Wonsik coughed into his fist and continued cooing at Siwol. Taekwoon rolled his eyes.

"I named him Siwol because that was the month I got him."

 _"So_ creative." Wonsik mocked playfully, and Taekwoon pushed him, knocking him flat on his butt.

"You boys must be tired." Mrs. Jung said. "Woonie, you can show Wonshik around while I make lunch, and then rest up, hmm?"

"Okay."

Siwol excitedly followed them back down the hallway as Taekwoon lead Wonsik to his room at the back. Wonsik whistled lowly.

"Your house is big." he noted.

Taekwoon shrugged, opening the door to his room. "Not really."

"Bigger than mine was, definitely."

They stepped into a spacious room. Taekwoon set his things aside, along with taking Wonsik's since he was too busy marveling at the size and its impeccable cleanliness. The scene was a little surreal: Taekwoon turning around to find Wonsik standing in the room of his childhood, someone he'd known barely a few weeks. His teeth nibbled at his bottom lip.

"...We'll figure out where you'll sleep later."

Back downstairs, where Mrs. Jung accosted Wonsik into more information about his personal life (Taekwoon was a little embarrassed over how intrusive she was acting, but Wonsik didn't seem to mind so much), Taekwoon helped cook lunch and pondered over what his grandmother would say if she saw Wonsik too. He didn't know better as a kid, but she had that sense about people... Surely she would say something about Wonsik and the birthmark.

He sighed to himself.

"Okay now, shoo, shoo," Mrs. Jung said, "the both of you are taking up too much space."

Taekwoon's expression fell, unamused, because they were just three in a kitchen capable of holding at _least_ twenty people. Still, he didn't reject the chance to free Wonsik from the bonds of his mother's chatterbox nature, so he guided him back to the living room.

"Sorry about my mom."

Wonsik grinned. "Nah, I like it. My mom... Well." He cleared his throat. "Anyway, I like her. Makes me wonder how you turned out to be so quiet, but maybe you got it from your dad?"

Taekwoon shrugged, only vaguely offended, and said, "He talks when he's in the mood, or when it's something he likes."

"Sounds a lot like you to me." Wonsik teased, and Taekwoon pushed him.

They flipped on the television and talked a little more, but Taekwoon couldn't carry his side of the conversation too well; thoughts of their mysterious matching birthmarks kept distracting him, the need to know what was going on stronger because he was back home.

Wonsik seemed to sense his unease and cracked smart jokes about the ridiculous drama they settled on. Even though Taekwoon wanted to ponder more over it, the break in thought was a nice change and he found himself cracking up when Wonsik would mock the characters' voices and mannerisms.

It wasn't long before Mrs. Jung announced lunch was ready. His parents had already eaten, so while his dad stayed in his study to read more, Mrs. Jung sat down with them and cheerfully pried more information out of Wonsik about himself. Taekwoon mostly remained quiet since Wonsik seemed comfortable answering every question flung at him. Besides, it was a good opportunity to learn a little more about him and that was an appreciated bonus.

Until she brought up his parents.

"So what is it your parents do for a living?"

Taekwoon's stomach dropped. Wonsik's verbal cues about not getting along with his parents and them not wanting anything to do with him were anything but subtle. Asking about it wasn't his place, so he courteously left it alone.

"Mom..." he said, admonishment edging his tone. Wonsik ducked his head almost meekly.

Aware of her faux pas, she sat straighter and looked between them. "Oh dear, I'm so sorry." she apologized. "You know, I tend to get carried away, so feel free to stop me any time you'd like." Her laugh softened Wonsik's shoulders. "Really, I'm just so happy Taekwoonie brought home a friend to us! You'd have thought he lived in a cave by the way he never talked about friends or relationships."

"Have a little mercy, mom..." Taekwoon said with a small pout. Relief seeped into his skin with Wonsik's new grin.

Mrs. Jung had Taekwoon washing dishes while she—more tactfully—carried on chatter with Wonsik. Happy, he thought; he was happy Wonsik seemed comfortable with her and in his house. It had been a long time since he was home.

"Hey mom," he suddenly asked, turning off the faucet. "Do any of grandmother's friends still live here?"

"Hmm? Grandma's friends?" she said thoughtfully. "Yeah, one or two, if I remember. Mrs. Yoon still lives by the old well, and Mrs. Park moved houses down the street from here. Why?"

Taekwoon shrugged. "Just asking."

Mrs. Yoon was the only one he remembered, so his choice was obvious. Now he needed to convince himself to actually go through with a visit... Did she still believe in all the things his grandmother talked about back then? It had been a long time...

Drying his hands, he glanced over his shoulder at Wonsik. The mark was on him too—it couldn't have been Taekwoon's eyes playing tricks—and that had to mean _something..._ but what? It couldn't be... Should he bring Wonsik along with him to visit her? What would that prove? He couldn't remember if she practiced muism 1 or not.

He shook his head to himself.

They spent the rest of the day lazily lounging around the house, save for the small trip they took to the convenience store to buy snacks and drinks. Wonsik played a lot with Siwol and Taekwoon was happy to watch, with television or radio as their background. Just... hanging out together like this was nice, and something Taekwoon hadn't done in a long time.

A while after his parents had gone to bed, Taekwoon asked, "Should I show you around the neighborhood tomorrow?"

Lazily, Wonsik rolled his head over the back of the couch towards him. "Sure, that sounds fun." His mouth was lopsided in a makeshift grin (and Taekwoon didn't want to admit how endearing it was).

"There's... not really a lot to do around here, but a walk would be nice. That well my mom mentioned earlier... Well. I can tell you about it when we see it."

The television flicked off and Siwol woke up from his nap to leap off the couch, excited to go back to Taekwoon's bedroom.

Wonsik followed Taekwoon's suit in standing up and stretching out too. "Is it up by the mountains? I saw some nice scenery on the bus ride."

Walking down the hallway, Taekwoon hummed the affirmative.

They hadn't thought about where Wonsik would sleep all day. In that case, it was only right to give him one of the two guest rooms since none of his sisters were coming home.

"Do you want to sleep in here, or a guest room?"

Wonsik looked between Taekwoon and the opening of his door and then shrugged. "Wherever you wanna keep me, I'm cool with it."

"You're not an animal." Taekwoon said too quickly. He pressed his lips together and ducked his head slightly. "...There's an extra futon in one of the guest rooms. I'll bring it in here and sleep on it, so you can sleep on my bed."

He turned towards the door, but Wonsik abruptly stepped forward. They found themselves suddenly face to face, and even though the lighting wasn't great, Taekwoon's eyes forced their adjustment and went from Wonsik's lips to his eyes. They were so close that he could feel Wonsik's _body heat._

"Ah, sorry—" he said quickly and stepped back.

For too long a moment, Wonsik stood in the doorway and stared at Taekwoon. Then he said, "Where are the guest rooms?"

They slept in separate rooms that night. Siwol slept with Wonsik.

•

•

•

_"...Pardon?"_

_Lightning flashed outside the planked screen walls._

_The gaze of his Lord was, as ever, heavy and foreboding. Taekwoon didn't much like being on the receiving end of that leer despite being an intimidating figure himself. Though it normally amounted to nothing, the sense of being in dire trouble never dwindled._

_"I said," his Lord repeated once more, "have you witnessed any..._ illicit _activities among your peers, or perhaps the trainees?"_

_He said 'illicit', which could only mean..._

_The pouring rain muddled his thoughts._

_With his head bowed, it was easy to hide his thick swallow. Why did it suddenly seem as if this audience was not mandatory for all the guardians, but rather an interrogation specifically for him?_

_"I... have not, my lord."_

_"Look at me, Taekwoon."_

_Taekwoon let himself breathe deep before lifting his chin with a composed, professional mask of calm._

_In the way his Lord looked at him, there had always been a certain... something; a dark glint, a heaviness that called for his submission... He could never pinpoint it, but it was not the sort of look one bestowed upon those pledged to serve them. He pushed the thought aside._

_"I have not, my lord." he answered with a straight back, squared shoulders. "I have also heard no rumors of illicit activities. Is there something amiss I have not heard?"_

_His Lord's gaze darkened more. "There have been but mere whispers, nothing to be so concerned with, Lieutenant." he eventually explained, though the expression in his eyes didn't match the light tone of his voice in the least bit. "However, should you hear or discover something, you are to report to me immediately, is that understood?"_

_Taekwoon bowed his head again in acquiescence. "Yes, my lord."_

_"Very well, that will be all. You are dismissed, Lieutenant Taekwoon."_

_He could not leave the room fast enough. Thunder clapped._

•

•

•

Taekwoon snapped his eyes open, breathing hard and heavy. Something was very wrong, his brain promised, but when realizing that he woke up, he figured out it was just an aftereffect of his dream.

That dream... That memory? It had been the turning point, where everything began to go downhill. He didn't know why he knew this, just that he did and it was the truth. It was why he felt so sick, barely awake and fingers curling into his blanket too tight for his tired muscles.

A knock at the door made him jump. It opened.

"Taekwoon...?"

Wonsik poked his head in. The room was unusually dark for the morning, but when Taekwoon heard the pitter-patter of rain outside, he realized why. He could still make out Wonsik's face, and for all of a moment too long, they stared at each other. Taekwoon's heart ached.

"...Do you always wake up this early?" he asked, despite not knowing what time it was.

Wonsik walked in and shut the door behind him. His bag was sitting in the corner, and he plopped in front of it.

"Bad dream." he mentioned. "Couldn't sleep so good."

Grogginess layered his voice. Taekwoon could relate.

He sat up in bed, pulling the covers closer around him because cold permeated his body even though the heater was on.

"You're mom's already up and she's making breakfast." Wonsik mentioned, rubbing at the spot under his left collarbone.

Taekwoon watched him move things around in his bag, and then realized he probably wanted to shower.

"Do you want to shower?"

Wonsik's shoulders went rigid and Taekwoon raised an eyebrow.

When they relaxed, he said, "Oh, I thought you were asking... Never mind." he mumbled. "Yeah, please. Show me the bathroom?"

After helping Wonsik work the shower, Taekwoon shuffled into the kitchen and settled at the small table in there.

"Good morning, honey." Mrs. Jung greeted at the stove. "Are both of you awake?"

"Mmm... Wonsik's taking a shower."

"Are you going to take one too?"

"After breakfast, I guess..."

The rain was coming down pretty hard. They wouldn't be going anywhere today.

She glanced over her shoulder at him. "Is everything alright?"

Taekwoon sat straighter. "Hmm? Oh, yeah... I'm still just sleepy. I had a nightmare."

Mrs. Jung didn't ask about what, remembering how he had nightmares a lot as a child. Taekwoon would complain about his birthmark back then and his parents would write it off as simply sleeping in a bad position. The older he got, the more he realized that talking about the birthmark and its coinciding nightmares made them uncomfortable.

Wearing black joggers and a long-sleeved white shirt, Wonsik appeared while drying his hair with a towel.

"Good morning, sweetie." Mrs. Jung said, and then Taekwoon left to take a shower, glancing over his shoulder to admire Wonsik's form in that outfit.

The rain didn't let up all day. Taekwoon's parents both had work, so he and Wonsik were stuck inside, an over-energetic Siwol running up and down the hallways with them.

"Whatsamatter?" Wonsik asked after catching Taekwoon staring wistfully out the window for the third time.

Taekwoon habitually reached to rub at his birthmark, but stopped himself.

"I'm not much a fan of the rain." he replied. "And I wanted to show you the well today, but I guess it'll have to wait."

Wonsik grinned. "It's alright, it's not like we don't got time."

He was right, but it rained the next day too, and the day after that. Taekwoon began to think _fate_ didn't want him to meet Mrs. Yoon at all, which absolutely _sucked_ because it felt like she was his last connection to his grandmother.

It was obvious that Wonsik wanted to ask why he was so downcast within the next couple of days, but since it was constantly raining, Taekwoon knew he'd be able to play it up to that. The nights hadn't gone without their nightmares, but they were mainly blurs of things he was beginning to accept as memories. The oddest thing was that Wonsik seemed to suffer just about as many as he did, though neither of them brought the coincidence up.

"It's supposed to snow tomorrow." Mr. Jung said from the recliner.

Taekwoon and Wonsik were at the short table, playing a board game in which both of them were becoming increasingly competitive. At the mention of snow, Taekwoon perked up and looked at his dad. He loved snow.

He looked back at the board and realized Wonsik made a move that put him at an advantage.

"Hey!" he complained, but Wonsik grinned.

"You gotta pay more attention, hyung."

They spent the rest of the day playing different games, and Taekwoon showed more of how much of a sore loser he could be.

Meanwhile, since it was only going to snow tomorrow, it would be the day. They would go visit Mrs. Yoon—under the guise of visiting the well instead. Truthfully, the well was rumored to grant wishes, and Taekwoon would secretly admit that it had given him some things he wanted as a child, but that seemed purely coincidental in retrospect. He wondered what Wonsik would wish for?

He would wish to know what all of the dreams and his birthmark meant.

•

•

•

_The closer selection drew, the more time Taekwoon spent away from Wonsik. It was unusual, but it couldn't be helped; though Taekwoon couldn't shake the feeling that it was deliberate, as if the people around them kept them from each other on purpose. He struggled to keep a lock on those thoughts because the upcoming selection was important. He was a candidate to become captain of the Lord's guardians and didn't have time to waste on such worries._

_He stepped from the barracks and was about to turn the corner when his name was mentioned. Hushed voices spoke among themselves, two or three, and he paused at the edge of the wall to hear what was said._

_"I admire Lieutenant a lot too, so to hear of such rumors is..."_

_"Do you suppose there's any weight to them?"_

_"He's a very private person, who's to say...?"_

_"Not to mention, he's up for the Captain's position and he's almost a surefire... I want to trust Lieutenant, but..."_

_"If his lordship hears of these rumors, who knows what will happen..."_

_"And what of Officer Wonsik? Surely, if the rumors are true... The consequences will be severe."_

_With Wonsik's name pulled into the conversation, Taekwoon's heart leaped into his throat and he could barely suppress his gasp. What was it? What could they_ possibly _be speaking of? Surely not of their relationship—they were far too careful, Taekwoon had made perfectly sure of that... He'd spun the right lies to the right people, redirected others' attention when needed, and checked and double-checked their surroundings constantly. Had he missed something? Did something—or someone—slip by him?_

_He had a reputation to uphold, an image to sustain, he couldn't be seen shaken by mere baseless talk. There was no evidence against he and Wonsik, and until he could find the source of the rumors, he needed to hold fast to his dignity._

_Sharply, he rounded the corner with his hands folded behind his back. The three men stood at attention, clearly surprised at his appearance, and greeted him. He hardly acknowledged them and continued on._

_Though Taekwoon was ambitious, he had never been one to step on or sacrifice others to get where he wanted. His hard work and efforts would be recognized, and it helped that his noble family was a prestigious one. Becoming captain of the Lord's guardians would bestow his family with a great honor, but it wasn't everything to him. No, he wasn't worried about the rumors jeopardizing his chances of being selected..._

_He was worried for what may become of him and Wonsik if anyone discovered the truth._

_He needed to find Wonsik._

•

•

•

Before Taekwoon even knew what he was doing, he was out of bed and stumbling to his door. His back ached, but sleepy as he was, he could ignore it and stepped out into the hallway. He leaned against the wall as he headed with some urgency towards the guest bedroom Wonsik slept in.

He just. Needed to see if he was there. If he was okay. If _they_ were okay. What did that mean? He was too sleepy.

Just as he was about to turn the knob, it opened on its own. Taekwoon gasped and tripped backwards. An arm quickly wrapped around his waist.

The hallway was drenched in darkness with only slivers of dim moonlight lining the end of it. Sleepy puffed Taekwoon's eyes, but he could make out the shape of Wonsik's shoulders, neck, and head.

"Hyung," Wonsik rasped, his voice like he'd just woken up too. "Hyung, are you okay?"

Taekwoon's back burned more. He had a hand on Wonsik's chest to steady himself, and there, the skin was burning too, right under his left collarbone.

"D'you have a fever...?" he asked with some delirium. "You're hot."

"Why, thank you." Wonsik said smartly, still groggy, and then he let Taekwoon go upon realizing their compromising position. "I'm okay, just..."

"Just a bad dream?" Taekwoon finished. His palm was still so warm with the feel of Wonsik's chest under it. He could still feel his arm around his waist.

"I... Yeah. Bad dream..."

No doubt, it wasn't near dawn yet, so Taekwoon needed to go back to his room and sleep this little episode off. He was too sleepy to be embarrassed about anything.

"It's okay. I'm going then... G'night, Wonsik."

Wonsik didn't reply, but he barely paid it a thought as he turned around to go.

"Hyung, wait," Wonsik called. "I... It's cold, will you sleep with me? The bed's big enough for the both of us..."

At that, Taekwoon paused. What if his parents found them like that? What would they think? They could always lock the door, but that would be extra suspicious... He could always lie to them later... His heart beat a little faster.

"...Um, okay."

They turned back into the room and Taekwoon quietly clicked the door closed behind him. There was a little more moonlight streaming through the parting of the curtains and it let him watch Wonsik wobble to the bed and then flop into it, moving the covers over him. Taekwoon inhaled and then went for the bed too. The space between them was reasonable enough, but he swore that they were much closer because of how Wonsik's body heat radiated off of him. He closed his eyes.

It was nothing. They were just two friends sharing a bed because one of them was cold. Even though his body was a furnace. And the heater was on. And there were two layers of blankets.

Try as he might, there was no sleep coming to him for at least another hour. He was stiff on his side of the bed, hands folded over his chest while he counted his breaths—confusing them for Wonsik's for a time or two. There was a surreal sense that they'd... _done_ something like this before, laying in bed together. More than that. Closer than that. He couldn't wrap his foggy head around it.

When Taekwoon dreamed that night, it wasn't about anxieties of being caught or reliving a death he knew by heart. He dreamed of skin slicked with sweat and touches as hot as the sun, kisses down his back and between his legs, and a voice deeper than the sea.

He woke up in the middle of the bed, alone, covered in sweat for a completely different reason. The shower was running a few rooms down, his muddled mind told him, and after putting two and two together, he realized Wonsik was up before him like usual. The blankets were so warm that he didn't want to get out of bed, but god, if he tried to face Wonsik first thing, he'd fall over on the spot.

He quickly escaped to his room, taking one of the blankets along with him.

Just like his dad had said, it was snowing outside, but thankfully not heavily. Today, he would see Mrs. Yoon.

Only, Wonsik could hardly look at him—and the opposite was true too. Taekwoon didn't know what it was, but he could still feel hands on his skin, words against his neck, kisses against his thighs... Cold as it was outside, while they walked through the town, he wanted to jerk all his layers off and dive into a pile of snow.

"Are you warm enough?" he asked in a bad attempt to start conversation.

Wonsik's hands were burrowed deep in his pockets. "I mean, sure. For a popsicle."

Cracking jokes was a good sign. A sign of comfort. Good. It was almost like he _knew_ Taekwoon had a wet dream sleeping in the same bed as him. That was too messed up.

At the base of a stone stairway leading up to both the well and Mrs. Yoon's house, they paused for a break. Taekwoon couldn't remember if her husband had passed away or not.

"Y'know, this neighborhood is bigger than it looks." Wonsik said when he leaned against a snow-covered wall. "To be honest, I almost thought you got us lost."

Taekwoon elbowed him in the side and he laughed.

"It's been a while, but it hasn't been _that_ long." he grumbled, and Wonsik laughed more. The sound was nice and warming.

They started up the stairs after Taekwoon told Wonsik to watch his step.

"You brought a coin to flip into the well, right?" he asked when they were halfway there.

Wonsik paused. "...We were supposed to bring coins?" he said, sniffling. His nose was turning pink.

Exasperated, Taekwoon turned to look at him. "Wonsik, it's a _well."_ Like they were talking two different languages, Wonsik stared at him blankly. Taekwoon shook his head and sighed. "You're lucky I brought a spare just in case you forgot."

A goofy grin broke out onto Wonsik's expression and he hopped up the stairs after Taekwoon, throwing his arms around his shoulders as soon as they were on the same level. "You do care about me!" he cheered.

"Wonsik, wa—"

And then one of their feet slipped.

Next thing Taekwoon knew, he was staring at the blanketed sky. Wonsik clung to his waist for dear life.

"We're alive!" he said like he couldn't believe it.

Taekwoon blew stray snow off his face. "No thanks to you." he grumbled again.

"Hyung!" Wonsik said, his voice between a whine and a laugh. Taekwoon's body warmed up again.

After they got back to their feet and dusted themselves off, they—more carefully this time—headed back up the stairs. The rest of the way was comparatively uneventful, but Taekwoon was glad since he needed to chill out a bit. At this point, he was convinced Wonsik _would_ be the death of him.

They reached the top, but before the well was Mrs. Yoon's open front yard, just a right turn away. Taekwoon cast a furtive glance to see if she would be sitting on her porch, and too his luck, she was. Settled in the middle of the yard was a small campfire that looked warm enough to sit around for a few hours. Bracing himself for whatever was about to happen, he perked up.

"Mrs. Yoon!" he called brightly. Wonsik paused at his side.

The woman, much older and shorter than he remembered, looked up from the book she was reading. Her eyes narrowed in an effort to recognize him, so he walked closer to help her out. Past the campfire was when she recognized her, her eyes going a little wide as she pushed up her thick spectacles.

"Taekwoonie, is that you?" she asked even though she knew it was him. Creaky as she was, she enthusiastically pushed herself up from the porch and went to greet him. "Goodness, you've grown so tall! And handsome too!"

Taekwoon offered a small smile when he bent at the knees so she could reach his cheek to pat it.

"Good, healthy boy." she said with a secretive smile of her own. "Your aura is good, hmm? It seems like something good as happened to you lately."

What she meant made him a tad apprehensive, but he took it in stride because he was here for this very reason.

"Yeah, something good's happened to me." He glanced over his shoulder.

"Have you brought a friend too?" she asked. "Well, don't just stand there, the both of you will catch your deaths! Let's go inside for something warm to drink." She hobbled up the wooden stairs.

Taekwoon turned to a confused Wonsik and motioned for him to follow.

Inside, they peeled off a few of their layers since they sat down close to a fire that boiled a tea kettle. Two cups had been set out for them while Mrs. Yoon tended to the tea.

"You know," she began, "I had a feeling you would come here this week."

Wonsik glanced at Taekwoon, who didn't look back.

"It's good to see you again, Taekwoonie. You remind me so much of dear Jinhee."

His grandmother's name—it struck an odd feeling in him.

Mrs. Yoon looked keenly at Wonsik, who smiled gently at her but shifted uncomfortably.

"Is this one of your friends from school?" she asked when serving them.

The aroma of the tea was familiar, but Taekwoon couldn't quite place it at the moment.

He nodded. "Yes, this is Wonsik. We've been hanging out a lot lately." The tea inexplicably tasted like childhood, and even though it was hot, he drank deeply, grateful about how warming it was for the cold weather outside.

She nodded sagely. "A good, fine pair. He has a good aura that matches yours. Do you like the tea?"

Wonsik seemed vaguely bewildered by how Mrs. Yoon could say something so forward and audacious when they had just met, but he hid his expression behind the rim of his cup. Taekwoon was amused by his reaction, but also somewhat uneasy because of how her words were lining up with all he'd been thinking about for a while now.

"It's very good." he replied. "I feel like I've had it before, but I can't remember."

"Oh, it was your grandmother's _favorite."_ Mrs. Yoon explained, her eyebrows raised like she was surprised Taekwoon didn't remember. "She served it to all her friends during a ceremony."

Ah, now Taekwoon remembered. She would give it to him, mostly during the winter months, saying it was good for his spirit, cleansing it and the like. It looked like Wonsik liked it too, from how he sipped at it enthusiastically.

"So what brings you boys up here in this frigid weather?" she asked when she poured her own cup.

Taekwoon swallowed his tea a little too fast and it pushed painfully at the walls of his esophagus. He winced and coughed, tipping forward his head for a moment. Concerned, Wonsik rubbed him on the back.

"You alright?"

"Yeah... Yes, it just went down a little too fast."

He looked back up to see Mrs. Yoon smiling, but she quickly pulled up her cup to hide it.

"Anyway, we came up here to see the well." he explained. "We were going to come a few days ago, but it's been raining so much that we didn't want to come out and get wet."

"The small shrine at the base of the mountains?" Mrs. Yoon asked, although Taekwoon knew she knew what he was talking about. A corner of her wrinkled lips quirked. "They say that well was blessed by the goddess of fate, you know. If I remember right, the local legends talk about it bringing one closer to who they're meant to be with."

There she went again, Taekwoon thought, with that secretive smile of hers. Did she know something? His mother wouldn't have said anything about her if she was like his grandmother, practicing muism and all since she had always wanted to keep him away from that—so maybe it was more that she was feeling out the terrain around him and Wonsik.

"Really?" Wonsik said with sudden interest.

Mrs. Yoon nodded. "I do believe it's nicknamed something like... the 'Lover's Well'?" she said. "Young people are always going there in the spring to cast a coin for luck in their love lives. You kids are so silly sometimes."

"Do you think it works?" Wonsik asked. Taekwoon was surprised about his curiosity about this, never thinking about him as someone who took much stock in superstitions.

She laughed. "It's been there since I was a girl, so I suppose I can't say it's _so_ silly... It brought me my love."

Next to the fireplace was a photo of her husband, which answered the question of whether or not he was still alive.

"You both must've been happy together for a long time."

The smile on Wonsik's face was warmer than the Taekwoon's teacup in his hands, seeping through his skin even though it wasn't meant for him. Suddenly he thought, what if there was someone—a girl—Wonsik liked? And that was why he was so engrossed in the idea of a well that brought love and luck to its caster? His heart dropped.

"...Does it matter who you go with?" Wonsik continued asking, shoving Taekwoon's heart deeper into his stomach. He must've asked that because who he wanted to be there with wasn't there.

"I'm not sure it matters," Mrs. Yoon replied, "but... I assume that would make such a spell stronger."

Wonsik brightened.

"You two best be off." Mrs. Yoon told them after the three of them finished their second cup of tea. "Even though it's still early, the days are getting shorter and shorter."

It was only when they were back in her front yard, walking past the campfire, that Taekwoon realized he didn't get to ask her the one thing he wanted to see her about the most. The birthmarks. His. The fact that Wonsik had one that matched him. What his grandmother meant when she said it was supposed to bring him to his fate as a child. Tomorrow, he would have to come back—maybe by himself.

She waved them off and Taekwoon glanced over his shoulder to see her smiling in a knowing way as they left.

"It's cool that she told us so much about the well." Wonsik said when they took the path around and past her house. "I didn't think it'd be so old, though."

"Yeah, me neither." Taekwoon replied. "It's been here since I was little, but I didn't know the story about the goddess' blessing."

"D'you believe it?"

Taekwoon hummed. "Well... A lot of stories like that were told to me when I was growing up, by my grandmother, actually. She believed in things like that, but... My parents, not so much." He glanced at Wonsik, trying to push away the dull ache of unsureness and jealousy. "Um, what about you? Are you... superstitious?"

Wonsik laughed bashfully and rubbed the back of his neck. "Kinda? Well." He paused to collect his thoughts. "...I'd like things like that to be true, it'd make a lotta things easier for me to think about..." He rubbed the usual spot on his chest, even through all his layers.

They went up one more, shorter staircase and finally found themselves at the well shrine. It was funny; Taekwoon didn't actually remember it being a shrine at all, just an old well overrun with vines and moss in the warm months and frozen over with icicles in the cold months. Some of the locals could've had something to do with it becoming a small shrine, maybe for the goddess Mrs. Yoon talked about, or for a sansin2, since the well was at the base of a mountain.

On either side of the well was a pillar, thinner than them, but thicker than the wooden post that held the well's roof up. It was encased in a small structure made of both wood and worn stone, and just below the roof was the taeguk symbol3, its colors long since faded.

"Definitely don't remember this." Taekwoon mentioned when they were standing in front of it.

"I bet it looks pretty in the spring." Wonsik said, glancing at Taekwoon.

Ignoring whatever vague implications Wonsik's words had, Taekwoon stepped up first. He pulled out a daedong4 coin, its shine long gone and masked with tarnish, and then after whispering a wish with its surface almost touching his lips, he flicked it into the well. The following splash told him the water wasn't frozen over yet. It probably would be soon.

"Your turn." he said to Wonsik, who had been watching ardently, only snapping out of it when Taekwoon spoke to him.

"Huh? Oh..."

Taekwoon pulled the other daedong coin out of his pocket and slipped it into Wonsik's gloved hands.

"How do I...?" Wonsik began to ask, jerking his thumb at the well.

Taekwoon raised an eyebrows. "Have you never made a wish at a well before?"

He shrugged sheepishly. Taekwoon huffed a little laugh and then said, "Just make a wish and toss the coin in. The gods won't punish you if you don't know a 'right' way to do it."

Gloved hands deep in his coat pockets, Taekwoon watched Wonsik's back from below well shrine's step. What would Wonsik wish for? It wasn't right of him to wonder since he'd never tell Wonsik if he asked about his wish... It was too embarrassing. Was it for a girl he liked? A goal at school? Something to do with his estranged family?

When Wonsik was finished, he stepped back down. "It's nice up here." he said, and Taekwoon noticed the lightness to his expression and liked the way the winter light cast off his brown skin. "I think it's a good thing we came today," he said as they started walking, "If it woulda snowed tomorrow too, the water was gonna be frozen and the coins woulda just bounced off the ice and not gone through. Would a wish even count like that?"

Taekwoon shrugged. "You're right though."

Their trip back down was a lot more careful than on the way up, but they remained walking close together. Taekwoon swore he could feel Wonsik's body heat through his layers, for god's sake.

There was something Wonsik wanted to ask Taekwoon, and Taekwoon knew it because he could practically taste the curiosity and apprehensiveness radiating off of him when they stepped into his house.

Mr. and Mrs. Jung were moving around each other in the kitchen and plates were already set out on the table. Whatever questions Wonsik had for Taekwoon, he waited until after they were finished eating. His mom didn't ask about their visit at all, nor said much when Taekwoon told her Mrs. Yoon invited them in for tea earlier.

If either of his parents had caught him and Wonsik sleeping in the same bed this morning—the tips of his ears burned with the memory—they didn't say anything about it. He had to guess that they didn't find out at all, seeing as both were so busy getting ready for work in the morning that they hardly paid attention to anything else.

"Did you have any nightmares last night?" Taekwoon asked casually when they were back in his room, each on their respective laptops.

Wonsik choked a little on the juice he drank—and not that Taekwoon knew why, but he could relate. Why was it, that the _one_ night they shared a bed, he had to have... _indecent_ dreams?

"Yeah, I mean—No! No I didn't." Wonsik fumbled. "It was fine... Thanks for keeping me warm."

...Though Taekwoon was pretty sure he didn't do that at all. They didn't even touch once under the blankets, at least not when awake. He wouldn't admit that he kind of wished they had.

That night, he didn't hold his breath for Wonsik to ask him to share a bed, and Wonsik didn't. In his own bed, the door closed, he felt oddly alone.

•

•

•

_The days leading up to the selection, Taekwoon had an increasingly bad feeling. From the corner of his eyes, he would catch something—perhaps someone—watching him, but no one would be there whenever he looked. He had begun sorting through people in his mind when he had a brief moment to come up with possibilities of who it could be._

_Ever since he'd heard other soldiers and guardians talking about he and Wonsik behind his back, his paranoia had increased. It seemed as if he was constantly watching over his shoulder, and had become easier to recoil around the wrong sort of interaction. He tried his best to keep it all under wraps, but he knew the others were beginning to notice... If Wonsik was one of them too, he said nothing. None of this was doing his poised image any good._

_Not only that, but his Lord had been summoning him every day for audiences. Taekwoon couldn't say why it was, aside from checking for more suspicious activities among their ranks, but he was so focused on his own worries that he hardly ever had anything to report. He couldn't help but wonder, did his Lord summon the higher officers too? For when it was Taekwoon, it was more than to ask questions, it was to have a drink, to be close... The audiences had become progressively more uncomfortable._

_This, he could not share with Wonsik. There was enough he worried about, so Taekwoon didn't want to add to the burden despite not sharing secrets being the very thing they agreed to avoid._

_The night before the selection for the new captain of the guardians, the officers and lower ranking soldiers were gathered around a bonfire in the nearby bamboo forest. Food and drink was plentiful, and the atmosphere was lively, punctuated by easy laughter that joined the billowing smoke into the sky._

_Taekwoon had decided he would let himself slip off a little and joined the others in some drinking games._

_He had been laughing with Wonsik and a couple other men when someone tapped him on the shoulder. Though his head was slightly foggy, he managed to make out it being a guard from their Lord's palace._

_"His Lordship has summoned you, Lieutenant." the guard said._

_"Has something happened?" Taekwoon asked in an attempt to sober up a little._

_"Not at all, his Lordship just requires you come immediately." he explained. "I can see you're engaging in these late-night frivolities, but I'm sure you won't mind."_

_There was clearly no room for rejection. The other men looked at him, obviously surprised by his being summoned on such a night, but since one among them would be selected for a higher position tomorrow, they figured he would simply join them again tomorrow night for even more celebrations._

_Taekwoon could only look at Wonsik as his heart began to hammer in his chest, not slowed in the least bit by all the alcohol sloshing through his blood. Wonsik, though thoroughly drunk, did seem concerned, but smiled easily at Taekwoon and encouraged him to be off._

_The only thing Taekwoon could do was follow the guard out of the forest and towards the palace._

•

•

•

Frankly, it was bullshit that Taekwoon woke up with a hangover when he hadn't even drank any alcohol the night before. Just because his dream (past?) self got shitfaced didn't mean he should have to wake up with the aftereffects.

Why did he have to wake up at such a crucial moment in the dream? That "lord" or whoever the hell he was... He had sentenced Taekwoon _and_ dream-Wonsik to—Taekwoon swallowed thickly, his birthmark stinging—death, and still, Taekwoon hadn't found out _why._

Treating these dreams more like memories, like flashbacks into a life he actually lived... It probably wasn't such a great idea, but what else could he do? All of it felt too real and too fresh to consider it otherwise.

He sat up in bed and pushed the thoughts aside in favor of thinking about how to leave Wonsik here by himself while he went to visit Mrs. Yoon again. She knew about the birthmarks and Taekwoon was _sure_ she remembered them and what his grandmother had said about them when he was a child. Maybe, if she believed in everything his grandmother did (and he was sure she did), she could give some good insight into what it all meant. She was his last chance.

His parents were already gone, his mother leaving breakfast for them wrapped in the kimchi fridge, and just when he sat down after preparing plates to dig in, Wonsik shuffled into the kitchen, holding his head.

"Do you have any painkillers?" he asked, rubbing at his temples.

Taekwoon frowned and got up and reached into the spice cabinet where they kept a few bottles of medicine for menial pains.

"Do you have a headache too?" he asked.

"Yeah..." Wonsik replied after getting a glass of water from the faucet. "Feels like... like I got a hangover or something."

Taekwoon froze. Wonsik downed the pills and the water.

_A hangover...?_

Just like Taekwoon. Just like his dreams. Just like dream-Wonsik would have... the next morning.

"...listening, Taekwoon?"

"Huh? What?"

He'd just been standing there with a plate for Wonsik in his hand, staring off into space. Wonsik frowned at him.

"You good?"

"Ah, y-yeah... Here."

Wonsik joined him for breakfast.

While they ate, Taekwoon stole glances at him, coping with the new revelation that he and Wonsik... might be _sharing dreams._ Was that even possible? But they shared birthmarks after all... Not necessarily in the same place, but Taekwoon was absolutely sure his eyes hadn't fooled him that night in Wonsik's apartment—that mark on his chest, so similar, if not an exact copy, of Taekwoon's own on his back...

So if they shared birthmarks _and_ dreams, what did that mean?

He sorely needed to think of an excuse to go see Mrs. Yoon again.

Luckily, he didn't have to.

After enlisting Wonsik's help to wash dishes, the house phone rang.

"Hello?"

 _"Taekwoon!"_ the voice greeted.

"Mrs. Yoon? Good morning, auntie."

Wonsik glanced at him.

 _"Good morning sweetie."_ she responded. _"I have a small favor to ask. Would you come by and help me move a couple things into the shed out back? This old woman doesn't have the strength of an ox like she used to."_ She laughed.

"Oh..." He looked at Wonsik. "Yes, sure, I'll help you. Would you like me to bring my friend along as well?"

 _"Oh, no sweetie."_ she quickly said, and he couldn't help but feel like there was something she wasn't telling him. _"There isn't much, and I wouldn't want to waste his time. You youngins must be busy with your own lives. I've only asked you because you can't say no!"_ She laughed again.

He chuckled too. "Well, if you insist... I'll be there soon then."

_"Thank you Taekwoonie!"_

They hung up and Taekwoon put away the phone. He turned to Wonsik.

"Would you do me a favor?" he asked.

"What's up?"

"That was Mrs. Yoon, she wants me to go up there and help her a bit..." What a great coincidence it was, honestly. "So could you finish drying these dishes and put them away? And then make sure Siwol is walked and gets food."

Wonsik seemed slightly taken aback by the favors, but Taekwoon then said, "I'll pay you if you'd like. I really shouldn't be gone that long, but you met her yesterday... She can talk a lot." Which was what he was planning on, but Wonsik didn't need to know that.

Waving his hand, Wonsik replied with a grin, "You don't gotta pay me, you're doing enough by letting me stay here for the holidays and all. I'll do it. You sure she doesn't want extra help?"

"No, she said she didn't." Taekwoon called back after walking from the kitchen to get ready. "I'll call you up if I need it though."

Siwol followed him around, sensing that he was about to leave after he piled on the layers. It was still snowy outside, though not as heavy as it was yesterday, and he mentally recounted that he needed to be careful on the stairs. Wonsik joined him at the door.

"Be careful at those stairs, hyung." he said, as if reading Taekwoon's mind.

Taekwoon fumbled with putting his scarf on properly because of his gloved hands. Wonsik helped him out, stepping closer and wrapping it snugly around his neck, and Taekwoon couldn't help peeking at his tanned neck and pinkish lips. Siwol yipped.

Outside, Taekwoon was thankful for the cold that soothed his hot cheeks.

The trip to Mrs. Yoon's house seemed longer this time, but probably only because he didn't have Wonsik to distract him. He began going over questions he thought he should ask her, but... Her answers would depend on how much she believed or what she knew about him. All of the mysticism was a tough pill to swallow, but what other explanation was there? It wasn't like he and Wonsik were mysterious, long-lost brothers separated at birth... They didn't even look like each other.

"Auntie," Taekwoon called when he stepped onto the porch.

"Ah, you're here!" he heard from somewhere in the back.

He toed off his shoes and slid open the door to the room where she served them tea yesterday. The fire was going again inside, and he went to stand by it to warm up a little until she appeared.

"Good morning, sweetie." she greeted warmly. "Oh, are you cold? Let me add a little more wood to the fire."

He quickly shook his head. "No, it's alright. Thank you. So what was it you needed help with moving?"

She waved her hand, leaving Taekwoon slightly puzzled.

"No, sweetie, that was just an excuse!" She grinned in that sly way only the elderly seemed to be able to do. "I knew it would be odd just to call you here on your own, especially since you have a friend visiting, so I just made up some silly excuse for it."

...He forgot how scheming and gossipy his grandmother's friends could be.

"Ah... Is that so...?" he asked, beginning to feel awkward—despite the fact that he'd come with ulterior motives too.

She ushered him to the tea table. "Don't be awkward, I only want to speak of something. Particularly about you and your friend, which was why I wanted you to come on your own."

"My friend...?" he asked, pretending to play oblivious.

"Yes, you haven't noticed? I'm nowhere near as good at this as dear Jinhee was, but I could at least _feel_ it..." she said. "You have a strong connection to that boy."

Taekwoon blinked. She'd just... went and said that _outright_ and he hadn't been expecting it. He coughed into his fist as she lay two cups down for them. More green plum tea, he suspected.

"What do you... um, mean?"

She pushed herself up and went to get the kettle. "I meant it when I said your friend had a good aura, but not only that. His aura, it matches yours."

Taekwoon's heart jumped and he had to set down his cup before he could take a sip. He took a deep breath as Mrs. Yoon sat back down and smiled understandingly at him.

"Auntie, I, ah..." He cleared his throat and ducked his head. "Do you know my birthmark?"

Mrs. Yoon looked thoughtful a moment. "Hmm, was it... the one on your back, yes? I remember how Jinhee would bring it up often. What about it?"

Taekwoon bit his lip and wondered— _really_ wondered if it was right to tell her about Wonsik's, if she would actually believe him or not. It sounded farfetched, and even like a fake story he'd made up for attention. Still, he knew what he saw. It couldn't be a coincidence, and no matter what her reaction was, it couldn't be worse than his parents telling him it was totally _natural._

"I, well... Um. My friend—Wonsik, my friend, he..." He curled his fists tighter into his lap. "We have the same birthmark." he forced out before he could double-back.

There was no reply for a long moment and though Taekwoon's heart hammered in his chest, he peeked up to Mrs. Yoon. Her expression was painted wondrous and it didn't take a body language genius to realize she believed him.

"You've seen it?" was the first thing she asked him, and he nodded meekly. "Sweetie, that's incredible."

The encouragement sparked his eagerness, and when he spoke, he felt like a kid again. "It is? Auntie, do you know what it means?"

Mrs. Yoon frowned. "Didn't your grandmother tell you? A mark like that bears the responsibility of seeing to unfinished business... If that unfinished business involves your friend, then what do you suppose that means?"

Honestly, Taekwoon couldn't believe he was having this conversation. He'd been vying after the topic, this insight, for _weeks_ now, and Mrs. Yoon was just... handing it to him. Simply. Without interrogation. It was like this was her job, her role in his life; to be his guide through the confusion of nightmares and burning skin and touches he wasn't sure he was allowed to want or have.

"I..." he started out slowly. "I've been having these... these dreams lately," he admitted, slowly because she was the first one he was going to confess everything to. "They're old, it's like they don't... take place in this era at all. Things are different. _I'm_ different. And I—I know it's me, because it's my name in the dreams, and it just _feels_ like me..." Instead of her, his eyes were trained on the table, cheeks beginning to flush.

"And Wonsik's in them too." He peeked up at her for a reaction, but all he got was a face that was listening to him. "At least, it feels like him... I can never really make out his face that well. And instead of dreams, they feel more real to me, like I was actually _there_ at some point. Like—Like..."

"Like memories?" Mrs. Yoon said helpfully.

He shrugged noncommittally.

"If anything, it seems that you two truly were meant to meet again in this life."

The skin surrounding Taekwoon's birthmark tingled. "You mean like... reincarnation?"

He said it in a way that was disbelieving, because seriously, who could ever cope with such a... such a scientifically unfounded concept? His roots were religious, but his immediate family wasn't. He hadn't been raised exposed to different mystical and religious concepts that dealt in reincarnation and the like. His parents would scoff at him for even _thinking_ about it.

"I think," Mrs. Yoon began, "that if you reach down, deep down into yourself, you'll realize the truth."

Over-thought wanted him to slump over, but it wouldn't be proper, and he stiffly reached for his tea just for something to distract himself with.

"You do realize, for anything to change for you, you must talk to your friend about it, yes?"

...That was what Taekwoon was afraid of. Conversations about anything other than the menial and superficial were _not_ his strong suit—on top of that, with Wonsik? It was _begging_ for trouble. His own emotions ricochet in him like a stray bullet, making it hard to look at Wonsik in a friendly, casual light. How the hell would he bring up such a... such a _wild_ concept?

Sensing his distress, Mrs. Yoon reached across the table to pat his hand gently. "Don't fret so much, child. When you're ready, you'll know."

After that, Taekwoon didn't stay much longer. Mrs. Yoon invited he and Wonsik to stop by anytime, but he wasn't sure he'd take her up on that.

Back on the stone pathway outside, he turned to the mountains instead of towards his house. He'd stayed with Mrs. Yoon longer than he thought because the sun had begun its sink into the horizon not long ago. The days were so short during the winter.

In front of the well, he pressed his hands together in a prayer.

 _Whoever you are... For the love of all that's good in the world, for my sanity,_ please _help me get through this._

Water dripped onto the frozen surface at the bottom of the well.

"What, did she have you rearrange her whole house or something?" Wonsik joked when they were settled comfortably on Taekwoon's bedroom rug.

"Don't remind me." Taekwoon rolled his eyes, feigning physical exhaustion.

Mrs. Yoon had encouraged him to come clean to Wonsik, but he wasn't ready—not yet. A part of him _never_ wanted to be ready; confronting all this... untapped _pain_ and intense feelings of desire sliced at his nerves. Half of him hoped Wonsik might bring it up first, given that he was feeling anything similar to Taekwoon in the first place.

Later into the night, when the two of them were getting ready for bed, Taekwoon wondered—instead of why, for once— _how_ he'd gotten his birthmark. In... "this" life, he was born with it, but if reincarnation was real and he lived other lives, did he have it then? Did he have it in the life he dreamed of?

If he had any dreams that night, he didn't remember them. He'd woken up with a start, a sob clawing its way up his throat, and only vaguely recalled the feeling of his skin on fire. Being burned. Held down and burned.

The pain was so intense that he threw himself into a cold shower, and when that barely helped, he held an ice pack to his back.

 _Wonsik,_ he thought, because he'd woken up at an ungodly hour and if _he_ was in pain, who was to say Wonsik wasn't?

Forgoing his ice pack for a moment, he crept down the hall and towards Wonsik's room. He leaned his ear towards the door and listened for any noises out of place. There was a faint rustle and creak of the bed. He tested the doorknob for being locked, but when it gave way to twisting, he held tight and slowly pushed open the door. There was hissing and low grunts from the bed.

At first, Taekwoon's mind immediately went to the gutter and his whole body flushed, but when he was going to escape, a broken sob tore from Wonsik. Taekwoon quickly stepped in and closed the door behind him before the noise could reach his parents' room.

He hurried to Wonsik's bedside, ready to wake him up, but when the moonlight cutting through the curtains' slit fell over his clavicle, Taekwoon realized he wasn't wearing a shirt. The slight twisting of Wonsik's body lined up perfectly with the sparse light, and Taekwoon saw it: skin, raw and angry around thick black lines, almost raised from his body. Like someone was trying to take it off him—or the mark was fresh. It was very much how Taekwoon's back felt when he woke up too.

Guilt was what Taekwoon felt.

It quickly became too hard to watch Wonsik toss and turn, whimpering and on the verge of wailing, so Taekwoon flicked on the lamp on the nightstand to the lowest setting and jostled him, gently as he could, awake. The nightmare had its clutches so deep into Wonsik's body that it took a few, heartbreaking minutes, but when Taekwoon leaned over and stroked his hair in a way that felt so familiar and _right,_ Wonsik bolted awake. Taekwoon's forehead barely dodged being slammed into.

Wonsik didn't realize Taekwoon was there at first, and he buried his face into his hands. Taekwoon watched his figure quake with muffled sobs and each wave stabbed at his heart. He wanted to say something, but he didn't know what—did Wonsik even know if he was in the room or not?

It was another few minutes before Wonsik was calm enough to wipe his face and then fan at it, but as soon as he caught sight of Taekwoon, he startled right out of his skin, dashing to the other side of the bed.

"Holy _fuck,"_ he nearly shouted, clutching his blanket up to his neck protectively. "Hyung, what the—how long have you—did you—what the _fuck."_

Taekwoon let him work the fright out of his system and wished he brought his ice pack with him because the stinging was stirring dizzily at his head.

"Sorry..." he muttered. "You were, ah, um... having a nightmare. I came to wake you up."

Wonsik stared at him for a long moment, his eyes swollen and red, and then he flopped over onto his face. Neither of them said anything.

Eventually, Wonsik climbed out of bed—Taekwoon noted that he purposefully angled his body so no part of his chest would be seen. There was two other tattoos on him, Taekwoon found: One, a large piece as an homage to a band, and the second with thick, stylized letters spelling something he couldn't quite make out. He liked them.

Wonsik pulled on a shirt and then turned to Taekwoon. He looked far less upset and more embarrassed, rubbing at his chest.

"D'you—" he sniffled, "—have like, an ice pack or something?"

The realization that the two of them were just _magically tied by fate_ hit him like a ton of bricks, as usual, but he pretended not to know why Wonsik asked in the first place.

"You two are up awfully early." Mrs. Jung said on her way to the kitchen to make coffee.

Taekwoon and Wonsik were on the couch, each curled up on one side with blankets. Taekwoon had decided not to retrieve his ice pack because it would inevitably raise questions from Wonsik, who nursed his own burning skin under the blanket. He hadn't asked if Taekwoon had seen his birthmark, and Taekwoon was counting on him never bringing it up.

"Did something happen?" Mr. Jung asked, following his wife.

"No." Taekwoon responded, and Wonsik glanced at him gratefully. "We just both happened to get up."

"When you're close, you become better attuned to your friends' body clock." Mr. Jung mentioned in passing, though to Taekwoon... His dad genuinely had no idea.

They shared breakfast, and then both his parents were off to work, and Taekwoon was glad for the space. He wondered if their behavior together had been suspicious at all, but he doubted it. He was being too careful around Wonsik to not be around his own parents.

"What should we do today?" he asked Wonsik halfway through an hour variety show rerun.

Wonsik didn't reply immediately and Taekwoon noticed how he pulled his legs closer to himself while biting his lip. He frowned.

"...Is something wrong?"

It took a long moment for Wonsik to peek at him, uncharacteristic and making Taekwoon slightly uncomfortable, but when he did, he asked, "Can we just, I'unno, stay in... today...?"

Taekwoon wouldn't say no, so he wasn't sure why Wonsik acted like he would.

"Yeah, sure." He got up from the couch. "It's too cold outside for anything to be enjoyable anyway. Should we watch movies?"

The relief was clear in Wonsik's posture when he sat up, and Taekwoon just felt bad. Was it because of what happened when he woke Wonsik up? Was he mad?

"I got a list in my bag, actually!" Wonsik said cheerily before Taekwoon could spiral into anxious doubt.

They were curled up again on the couch with one of Wonsik's movies now playing, but Taekwoon wasn't really watching it. Instead, he was thinking of ways to bring up Wonsik's birthmark, the conversation he had with Mrs. Yoon yesterday, and his suspicions that maybe... just maybe, they were having similar dreams. Would that sound outlandish? Too much?

Wonsik was definitely forcing his concentration towards the movie. They sat right next to each other, but he seemed to be avoiding him. How did that even work?

There had to be _some_ way to get him to open up, even a little... What would be a good gateway topic?

The first movie finished in the early afternoon and they decided to line up snacks for the second, which was an animation Wonsik wanted to indulge himself in. The movie's main theme was family. The main character wanted to go home, but couldn't because he didn't feel free there. It urged Taekwoon to really pursue the conversation with Wonsik, but as close as they'd become, he didn't want to push his boundaries, or push Wonsik away.

"...Are you crying?" Taekwoon asked when the credits began to roll. In the end, the main character's parents welcoming him home and promised to let him be who he wanted to be and not restrict his freedom anymore.

Wonsik wiped quickly at his face. "You're _not?"_ he half-sobbed, scandalized.

Taekwoon retrieved tissues from the bathroom.

"Did the movie get to you?" Taekwoon asked awkwardly when Wonsik went through his fourth tissue.

"I just—I like happy endings, okay?" His defensive tone was enough to make Taekwoon drop it.

The next movie was mindless action, nothing to get emotionally invested in.

They went through the rest of the day like that: watching various genres and shamelessly gorging themselves on whatever they could find in the kitchen.

"You almost cried too!" Wonsik accused, blowing his nose _again_ after they finished a movie about a heroic animal that sacrificed its life for its human in the end.

He was right; Taekwoon was a sucker for animals... but he'd held strong until the end, so he upturned his nose at Wonsik's point. He wiped his eyes when Wonsik wasn't looking.

Later that night as they were holed up in Taekwoon's bedroom, Wonsik gave a tempered sigh.

"What is it?" Taekwoon asked.

Wonsik rubbed the back of his neck, almost self-consciously, and then said, "Sorry for, uh... y'know, snapping at you earlier..."

At that point, Taekwoon had completely forgotten about it, mind awash in too many movies to care about one particular reaction or another, but then he recalled the sting and looked away.

"It's okay." he eventually said. "I didn't mean to intrude."

"It's not that!" Wonsik said quickly, and Taekwoon looked at him. He flushed. "I... Yeah. Okay. Like I told you before, I don't get along so hot with my family. And I wish I could be that kid in the movie, y'know? His parents like... accepted him, even though he was different."

_Different...?_

"And I just kept thinking, what if that was me? What if _my_ parents could accept be for being—"

Wonsik cut himself off and shot a look of fear at Taekwoon, like he'd heard something that hadn't come out of his mouth yet. Taekwoon could hear his own heart start to beat in his ears.

"Being...?"

Stress glossed over Wonsik's eyes and he hunched his back, shoulders up around himself protectively.

"...Being gay..." he whispered.

Taekwoon's heart leaped into his throat, but not out of shock. He had to catch himself from slumping back in _elation_. There wasn't a girl. _There wasn't a girl._

Then he realized his silence hadn't comforted Wonsik's terror in the least bit, so he reached out to pat Wonsik awkwardly on a shaking shoulder. His skin was so warm under his shirt... Wonsik lifted his head slightly and Taekwoon offered him a gentle smile.

"It's okay." he said again.

Wonsik was clearly holding back a lot of emotion, and Taekwoon wanted to help him let it out, but didn't know how. It didn't help that his parents were just a few rooms down and were bound to hear.

"I mean it." he said more earnestly, and then retrieved the box of tissues from his desk. Wonsik went through six more before he was calm enough to be embarrassed about his feelings.

That was when he thought of it—the gateway. Wonsik didn't have to _know_ that _he_ knew about his birthmark. It was... sly and underhanded, and maybe it wouldn't work out, but it was worth a shot and he was greedy for it.

"I have a secret too." he murmured, and Wonsik looked at him, eyes puffy like that morning. "Don't get weirded out, okay? I'm not doing something weird." Though that was basically a lie.

With his heart trying to break its way out of his ribcage, he turned around and with shaky hands, pulled off his shirt. Silence followed—then Wonsik sucked in a sharp breath.

"Wh-Where did you... How..." he fumbled. "Is that a... a tattoo?" His increasingly cracking voice was worrying, but Taekwoon pushed through. He looked over his shoulder.

"No...?" he responded. "It's, um. It's my birthmark."

"That's not right." Wonsik said, nearly cutting him off. "That's not... right."

For a moment, warmth trailed near the skin on his back, but disappeared fast.

Wonsik coughed, getting to his feet. "Sorry, hyung." he said with his head down. "I don't feel great, I'm going to bed."

And before Taekwoon could say anything, Wonsik darted from the room. It wasn't even 10PM yet.

•

•

•

_Much of Taekwoon's time not spent training or on missions with the guard was occupied by his Lordship. The transition of power between he and the former Captain Sangbae had been smooth, and his rise had even been expected by the entire compound. All had wished him luck and lent their strength._

_Being captain was no different than his position as lieutenant, as he had already earned his subordinates' respect and cooperation. The only thing that stood out was that he had to choose his own lieutenant—though that was not difficult in the least bit, even when his Lordship seemed ambiguously displeased by it._

_Wonsik dauntlessly swore to serve him to the grave, of course. Taekwoon wasn't sure how to feel about that._

_"Tell me of what goes on in your guard." the Lord said._

_The night was aging and the Lord sought him out for a drink, something that seemed to happen more and more lately. Taekwoon didn't recall the Lord acting this way with Captain Sangbae, but it was in his best interest not to mention it._

_"They grow restless." he explained wearily. "Young lads, eager for battles they should not want."_

_The Lord laughed with good nature. "Perhaps I should wage war on a neighboring territory to give them something to do."_

_"That would not be wise, my Lord." Taekwoon said. He had hardly touched his cup, while the Lord was on his second. "They are fine, only so full of energy and nothing to spend it on."_

_"Perhaps you should form a new training regiment to wear them of all their energy?" the Lord suggested, though the conversation was full of rhetorical statements._

_"Perhaps."_

_He didn't have it in him to pursue talk with the Lord. He always viewed him as a well-bred, fine man, but as of late, there was something wearisome about being in his presence, though Taekwoon could not glean what it was._

_"Captain," the Lord said, beginning on his third cup rice wine, "in these times of peace, do you pursue courtship with any of my court's ladies?"_

_The muscles across Taekwoon's shoulders tensed. "No, my lord."_

_It was a common, humorous topic among the guard that his Lordship could not handle his alcohol very well, and while Taekwoon had joined in on the laughter then, it did nothing but serve his discomfort in this situation._

_"Why ever not?" the Lord asked. "You're quite eligible, and any lady—or person, really—would be honored to be along your side."_

_The table they drank from was small and didn't lend much personal space for Taekwoon. It felt especially smaller when the lord had taken to openly staring at him, a slight glaze to his dark eyes. With as much subtlety as he could muster, he shifted away._

_"I appreciate your Lordship's compliments." he acknowledged, trying to think of a way out of this situation. He had not seen Wonsik since this morning, and these circumstances were doing nothing good for his nerves. "Forgive me, but I do not feel well. Permission to retire for the night?"_

_With a blink, the Lord seemed to remember who and where they were. He stood, sobriety taking his expression with swiftness. He motioned for Taekwoon to stand as well, to which he didn't hesitate to do._

_A long moment passed when the Lord did not speak a word, and Taekwoon wondered if their standing was a silent dismissal, but then the Lord turned to him._

_To Taekwoon's credit, he had enough self-control to abstain from a flinch when a hand slid down the side of his face. The Lord's height did not reach his, but his mere stature was enough to reflect that of a divine being's to any man. The touch was warm in a way different from Wonsik's: all-encompassing, smooth like the skin of a snake, imbuing. Needles danced up Taekwoon's spine._

_Indeed sobered, the Lord looked at Taekwoon, his hand now cupping his neck in a way Taekwoon could only describe as..._ possessive.

_When the Lord's lips moved, Taekwoon only heard his words and following dismissal through a filter, as if they were rooms apart._

_Minutes later, when he was out in the fresh air of the open compound, he tried to steady his heartbeat. Near a shudder, he recalled just what the lord had said to him._

"Do remember your place in my court, Captain Taekwoon. Misfortune befalls those who do not know their place."

_It wasn't a threat to him._

_He suddenly wasn't so sure of his selection of Wonsik as his lieutenant._

•

•

•

"You didn't tell me Wonsikie would be leaving, Taekwoon." his mother admonished as soon as Taekwoon walked into the kitchen.

Adrenaline spiked in him, jolting his whole system awake. _"What?"_

Mrs. Jung was taken aback by his reaction, but Taekwoon couldn't register that at the moment.

"You mean he's gone?"

Before he could answer, he dashed for Wonsik's guest bedroom—and found it devoid of one Kim Wonsik. Sheets made. Curtains pulled. Luggage gone. Wonsik gone. He stared, bewildered... and hurt.

This was his fault.

When he dragged himself back into the kitchen and plopped desolately onto the table chair, his mother said, "Did he not tell you? He was up very early, urgently packing and saying he had a family emergency."

 _Family emergency..._ He wanted to snort, but couldn't dredge up the energy.

"Sweetheart, don't be so upset, I'm sure it was very important that he left as soon as he could."

Mrs. Jung frowned at him, clearly disappointed in his inconsiderate behavior, but she didn't know what had happened last night. What he'd done. The massive _fucking mistake_ he'd made. Wonsik was gone, and it was because of him—because he was _idiotic_ enough to _believe—_

There was no note. Not even a message from him on his phone. Nothing. Gone without preamble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> muism1: Korean-shamanism.  
> sansin:2 Local mountain gods in Muism.  
> taeguk symbol3: Graphical symbol of interlocking semi-circles found on the South Korean flag.  
> daedong coin4: Coins made during the Joseon dynasty.
> 
> The final part and epilogue will be posted tomorrow! And if I don't post the epilogue tomorrow, I'll post it the day after. I hope you enjoyed reading! Please leave kudos and/or a comment~


	3. What Drives A Nail Between Us?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **WARNING:** Drug mention/use, uncomfortable sexual situations. Sparse!
> 
> I know I said today would be the final chapter, but I didn't realize I wouldn't actually want to edit 17,000 words in one day, so I split it in two! The final part will be posted tomorrow, followed by the epilogue on Saturday! A guy needs his breaks, you know.

Even when left to his own devices, parents gone to work (but not without sending him worried glances), Taekwoon didn't know if he should be upset or _pissed._

There were several times when he grabbed his phone and started jamming a message from his thumbs, only to realize he didn't know what the hell to say. Wonsik didn't know that _he_ knew about his matching birthmark. _Matching_ birthmark, dammit.

More than anything else, he was upset at himself—because of course! Of _course_ he jumped the gun! Of _course_ he thought if they just laid it all out, the rest would take care of itself. Things would fall into place. They'd talk about the marks and the dreams and the burning skin and it would be like it was _meant to be._ He'd been wrong about everything, hadn't he? Did everything he began to believe in turn out to be wrong when he pursued this?

Siwol whined when he started pacing around the house—again—but a headache was upcoming and he was restless. Now that he was by himself, it felt much larger. Too much larger. It had him wishing his sisters came home on holiday too, but they would've never been able to take that long off work.

What was he supposed to do? He couldn't just _go_ after Wonsik, suddenly drop everything and leave his house in the middle of winter break. His parents would definitely find something suspicious about it, and on top of that, he'd end up looking like some kind of stalker!

This was exactly why he should never be allowed to interact with people. Everything had been going just fine, and would've continued being fine if he was just... _normal._

It took a few days for him to stop fuming at himself. Christmas came and went. New Year's followed, bringing in the Year of the Dog, and he spent his energy in cherishing Siwol more; a distraction if nothing else.

Long and hard Taekwoon thought about whether another visit to Mrs. Yoon was worth it or not, but when weighing the pros and cons, he couldn't convince himself it was the right thing to do. Or that it would be helpful in the least bit. He'd been so stupidly optimistic about everything that he just _assumed_ it would work out—Wonsik running away hadn't been a considered outcome.

Why? He wanted to know _why_ Wonsik ran away. Okay, sure, it was freaky to find someone after twenty-something years with the same mark as them that wasn't a tattoo after having persisting dreams about said person with the same name almost nightly. That didn't mean Wonsik had to just up and leave!

A little more than half a week later, Taekwoon was on a bus back home. He'd spent the rest of his break moping around, mourning his mistakes, and hadn't been able to bring himself to visit Mrs. Yoon again. Maybe none of this was real and he was living in a fantasy where his brain fabricated nightmares just to torture him. With his luck, it wouldn't be a real shocker.

He was already missing Siwol after stepping into his cold and empty apartment, and he wished he could've brought his pup... but there would hardly be time to take care of him between trying not to die from classes. Break was supposed to have revitalized him, to have given him so much time to rest that he didn't know what to do with himself, but instead, he was more exhausted than ever.

There wasn't much for him to do with the last half-week of break, so he brooded around and repeatedly checked his phone with the abysmal hope that a solution would present itself. The problem wouldn't solve itself; if he wanted it to be fixed, _he_ needed to do something about it. He knew that, but he couldn't bring himself to. What if Wonsik flat-out rejected him? Said he _hated_ him? Never wanted to see him again? Taekwoon didn't know what he'd do. Did Wonsik even feel bad about ditching him with no explanation?

Classes started again before he knew it.

Despite them attending the same university, there was no chance they'd run into each other since they belonged to totally different departments. His seniors had been happy to see him again, teasing about whether or not he was actually alive enough to hold a conversation, and so he forced it. He felt like absolute shit, but he forced it.

Part of him started wanting to pretend like none of this ever happened. Like he'd never met Wonsik. Ever.

Since Taekwoon's face was just... like that and all of his peers understood that, the faking was going pretty well. No one asked him if anything was wrong, and it lent him a lot of leeway to sulk in secret.

Most of the days were passing the same. He'd go to classes, drag his way through them, throw himself into work, and then inexplicably find himself at home, half passed out on the couch. It sucked. He felt awful. He'd have nightmares, but they'd be blurs of things he didn't want to remember: touches he hated, obscenities forced on him, constant nausea. The lord of his dreams had not been a good person. He'd gotten nowhere close to the dreams of his death he used to have, or why or how.

The more he thought about everything, the more it frustrated him. It _meant_ something. He couldn't be delusional, not after everything he'd been through. Sure, he hadn't bought his grandmother's stories as a kid, almost fantastical tales that his parents hated her feeding to him, but now there was some weight to it, some proof. Part of him wanted to get over all of this and another part wanted to clutch it close to his chest forever. Some things were simply not coincidence.

He found himself starting at his phone and more often than not, his chatroom with Wonsik. Wonsik's silly display picture, with Butt. Their earlier messages. Proof that they'd been friends and not something Taekwoon dreamed up. It hurt more than he wanted to admit.

"What did you say?" Taekwoon asked, his hearing doing a double-take.

His classmate frowned at him, surprised by his inattention. "I said, we're going to be taking on some of the composing majors to work start working on musical scores for our midterm project."

The words _composing majors_ launched Taekwoon's heart rate. He knew exactly one music major who concentrated on composing—and if...

"But they'll just be the ones in our year, right?" He tried not to sound worried or hopeful.

The classmate shrugged. "You'll have to ask the professor about that, but I'm thinking so."

That turned out not to be the case at all—again, just his fucking luck. Crews could be partnered up with any composer from any year, so long as they met the standard his class was looking for. What were the odds of this happening? Even more, what were the odds that...

No. There was no chance. There were tons of students in composing.

Taekwoon tried not to worry about it by focusing on assembling a production crew instead. They'd need actors too, though he already had a few people in mind. He'd be one of the main screenwriters too, and he already had a few vague ideas, some... not so original and maybe inspired by his dreams. The group might go for the pitch if he used his status as a respected student...

The idea festered in his mind, tangents going for solutions to his other problems. And if... just _if_ the unthinkable happened, then... Could it all work out like he wanted?

It turned out like this: that old goddess laughing at him after putting the name he couldn't stop thinking about on the slip of paper he'd drawn. Kim Wonsik. Taekwoon had to repress a groan.

"Do you know him?" a crew member and friend, Yoseob, asked.

Taekwoon spared him a look and shook his head in a lie. He had to be upstanding about this. Patient. Understanding. That "goddess" would _not_ get the best of him.

(Yet the hurt morphed into irritation, and he couldn't stop that.)

"Who's gonna meet with them?" another crew member asked.

"We could have a group meeting?"

"Pfft, everyone knows nothing gets done at _those._ It'd be better to stick to chat."

"Like that'd be much better?"

"...You make a compelling argument."

"I'll do it."

It was involuntary. An action completely out of his control. The words just slipped out of his mouth, and the group looked at him. They all seemed both surprised and relieved that they didn't need to take the responsibility on.

"That's our Taekwoon, so responsible."

So responsible, in fact, that the group discussed whether they should make him head of the project or not. It was a lot of pressure, but the idea of bringing his nightmares up to the silver screen—for reasons not entirely artistic—had latched into his brain and wouldn't let go. This way, there'd be less resistance to it.

In the end, they did, and then began to brainstorm ideas over the next few days. Taekwoon was reminded of being appointed captain. Anxiety built in his stomach as he pushed them towards a period genre. Getting their hands on the clothing would prove a small challenge, but that was what the costume department was for. Taekwoon would pay out of pocket if he had to.

Setting up the meeting with the composers, Wonsik and one Min Yoongi he didn't know, was troublesome. The group told him to do it himself, but he came up with some lame excuse that he couldn't, he had other classes to worry about. Another group member ended up doing it for him. Wouldn't Taekwoon know it though, the location was the small shop where he and Wonsik had their first... outing.

Some divine being had to be laughing at him.

Luckily, he had one more day to calm his nerves and pep talk himself up to the meeting. He was awkward enough around strangers as it was, but with how the last time with Wonsik ended... It was bound to be worse. He couldn't possibly fathom what would happen. The last thing he wanted to do was get upset in front of someone he didn't know.

The morning of the (possibly catastrophic) meeting, Taekwoon staved off getting out of bed for as long as possible. The crew chatroom was fairly active, wishing him luck and adding things that he should think about discussing with the two composers. His heart would twist and palpitate painfully every now and then.

Just thirty minutes before he'd be late, he hauled himself out of bed and made himself presentable. It would be the first time he saw Wonsik in nearly three weeks, and while he was none too happy about why that was, he didn't want to be obvious about the soreness it caused.

The trip was as short as he remembered, even shorter because his surroundings passed him in a blur, and before he knew it, he was walking into the shop. His racing thoughts were giving his hammering heart a run for its money.

Since it was early, the shop only had a couple of other students and workers getting ready for their days sitting at tables, but the line for a quick breakfast was longer than the shop was full. Taekwoon stepped out of the doorway and looked around for Wonsik's achingly familiar face, but instead only found a tired boy, his skin pale and his hair the color of a bleached plant, raising his hand at him. He was leaning against the wall next to the table.

Taekwoon took a deep breath and maneuvered around the people and tables, relieved when he reached where who must be Min Yoongi sat.

"Hello sunbaenim, I'm Min Yoongi." he greeted politely. The light that reflected off his minty hair nearly blinded Taekwoon and he had to blink a few times.

"Jung Taekwoon," he replied, offering his hand to shake.

"Jung Taekwoon-sunbaenim, huh?" Yoongi responded, as if it both surprised and amused him. Taekwoon blinked owlishly at him. "Sorry, I've heard of you before."

Taekwoon raised an eyebrow. "Have you?" He was popular in class, but not much at all on campus.

"I have." Yoongi said, and as if to prove his point, he tipped his nose over Taekwoon's shoulder. Taekwoon followed his line of sight and his breath caught in his throat.

It was Wonsik alright, but Wonsik with _flaming red hair._

_Oh, fuck._

And 'oh fuck' was right because it looked so damn _good_ on him.

As soon as he looked their way, Taekwoon snapped his head forward. Yoongi looked amused, but he couldn't fathom why.

 _I'm not ready for this._ Taekwoon realized at the last minute, but it was too late. The seat next to Yoongi slid out and Taekwoon glanced up. Wonsik ducked his head respectfully.

"Good morning, sunbae."

The honorific slapped him in the face. He stared.

"What's up, Yoongi." he greeted more casually before sitting down.

If Yoongi knew something between them, he didn't say anything about it. He turned to Taekwoon.

"So sunbaenim—"

"Sunbae is fine." Taekwoon heard himself say. His face ached like Wonsik really had slapped him. Knots twisted painfully at his stomach and there was no feeling in his legs. The skin of his back buzzed with heat barely contained.

"Sunbae, right... Anyway, what's your film's genre?"

Masking his distress, Taekwoon reached for his bag and brought out the main notebook the group was using for outlining and planning. It hadn't been long, but pages were already worn, there were several sticky tags with labels, and everyone's different handwriting scribbled here and there.

This made Yoongi chuckle. "This looks like Wonsik's lyrics notebook." he mused.

"My _old_ one." Wonsik said pointedly, his brow furrowed. "I'unno where that one is..." He sighed.

Taekwoon pointedly ignored them and began to explain what the crew had discussed. Both students listened, though Taekwoon decisively focused on Yoongi's face without the slightest glance to Wonsik. He wanted to be smug about how steady his voice was, but that was hardly a victory. He was ready to go at least five rounds with Wonsik, frankly.

"It sounds beautiful." Yoongi said honestly, scribbling down in his own notebook. "What kind of atmosphere are you going for?"

"You would have to see some of the screenplay first. We only have a couple of scenes drafted out right now." Taekwoon explained, pulling out another notebook. "Not much of it is finalized, but the tone we have going is what we're sticking with. I don't plan to change it."

Yoongi had slid the screenplay to Wonsik to write more notes in his notebook. Taekwoon finally chanced at glancing at him, gauging his reaction to the material. As he suspected, his eyes went wide and his shoulders went rigid.

"What do you think, Sik?" Yoongi asked on cue.

Wonsik practically shoved a hand through his hair and sat back, deliberately not looking at Taekwoon. "It's good." he grunted. "Is this midterms or finals?"

"Midterms." Taekwoon had to force himself to say. He also had to hold back from saying, _Didn't you read any of the messages the crew sent you?_ because that was his own bitterness talking.

"Who's writing the script?" Wonsik asked, and Taekwoon knew why. He sat straighter for it.

"Me." he responded curtly, and reveled in the twitch of Wonsik's brow. "I'm the main writer, but I have two partners."

It was the first time Wonsik looked at him, and Taekwoon expected a glare, but instead there was a sort of anxiety, a distant fear. It didn't sit well in Taekwoon's stomach and he had to look away. If Yoongi noticed, he didn't comment.

They continued to dish out details of the collaboration for the next twenty minutes, none of them ever actually ordering anything to eat (Taekwoon couldn't stomach much right now anyway). Wonsik kept glancing at him, but he pushed himself to engage Yoongi more, who didn't seem like the type to talk much outside of friends. This situation was bad enough.

When he felt that they'd sorted enough out, he sat back in his chair.

"Thank you for meeting with me. The crew knows you must have projects of your own to work on."

"It's a grade for us too." Yoongi said, wrapping his scarf around his neck after putting his school books away. "I'm going first, then." He stood up, and so did Taekwoon. Wonsik began to put his own things away. "It was good to meet you, sunbae. You have my number now, so we can talk whenever you need." He looked at Wonsik. "You coming?"

All of Wonsik's things were already packed, but he hesitated. Taekwoon purposefully turned to his own bag. He was exhausted enough to sleep for a week.

Wonsik seemed to notice Taekwoon ignoring him and replied, "...Yeah, let's get going. Goodbye, sunbae." He trailed off into another conversation with Yoongi as they walked away from the table, something about Yoongi's roommate.

Taekwoon watched them leave.

When he left himself and stepped out into the chill, he was surprised to find he couldn't see steam blowing from his ears.

The next few days were spent working more on the production and gathering the extra staff they were going to need, along with filming locations and going through lists of possible student actors they could choose from. Taekwoon immersed himself with this work so he didn't have thoughts to spare on Wonsik because it burned his chest when the image of his solitary face at their last meeting crossed his mind.

At night, he'd taken to fervently thinking about his previous dreams as an experiment to see if he could pull them back out of him in his sleep. So far, there had been no success, only the feeling of foreboding and discomfort layering his skin. Showers started happening in the morning.

The days were blending together, turning into one week, two weeks. He hardly noticed time passing him by. Yoongi—and only Yoongi—would send him and the other crew members samples of his and Wonsik's work, and in turn, they would share more of the script or writing they revised.

It wasn't his place, and their relationship was purely academic, but Taekwoon wanted, almost desperately, to step out of line and ask Yoongi about Wonsik. That would just make what interactions they did have awkward, and he didn't want to put Yoongi in a weird position. Besides, he didn't even know if the two of them were close or not.

Taekwoon couldn't stand this trouble, this distance... They were supposed to be in university. They were supposed to be adults. Why couldn't they—why couldn't _he_ confront Wonsik...

So more days went by like that. Taekwoon working, Taekwoon sulking, Taekwoon trying not to think about Wonsik. He had to wonder; just _when_ did his everything start revolving around Wonsik? It was a petty crush at first because one, the guy had _saved is life_ and two, he was attractive on top of that. Taekwoon liked the way he talked and thought, and his love for Siwol only rivaled Taekwoon's own. Then they spent so much time around each other at Taekwoon's house on break, lounging around together and laughing about different things normally, easily. It just felt right.

He just wished Wonsik would _talk_ to him.

•

Something was so odd about watching other people outside of his head play out the roles of his dreams. If anyone knew what the screenplay was mainly based off of, they'd call him out as a weirdo on it, but that secret fortunately didn't need to be exposed. It didn't stop him from _feeling_ like a weirdo though, watching an actor and actress say some of the very things his dream-self had said. He was just glad Wonsik was only part of the score composing, because seeing this spectacle would drive a deeper wedge between them.

"Okay, thank you." another casting crew member said from next to him.

How long was he going to be stuck here? Yes, he wanted to find the best people to fit the role, but seeing everyone act out the same scenes over and over drained him, and he could be getting tired over food or other course work instead.

Thankfully, a few auditions later, someone called his attention away.

"Someone's here to see you?" said a volunteer.

Taekwoon didn't remember anyone saying they were coming to see him, but he took the reprieve anyway, briefly touching the shoulder next to him to make sure they knew he was going. He stepped out the back door and promptly faltered at who he saw.

Wonsik, with his hands shoved into his pockets, was pressed up against the hallway wall.

His brain flicked through behavioral options: cold, nonchalant, surprised, bitter, friendly? For his immediate reaction to be putting on a mask in front of Wonsik... That was messed up.

"...Yes?" he eventually asked when Wonsik didn't say anything.

"What are you doing in there?"

Taekwoon was taken aback by the informal tone, so his brain flipped on cold. "Auditions, can you not read the sign?"

Wonsik clicked his tongue. "I meant... The script, what's with the script?"

"What do you mean, 'what's with the script'? It's for my midterm." he said because it should've been obvious.

Stress furrowed Wonsik's brow as he stepped up. "No, I uh, got that, thanks." he said gruffly. "But why _that?"_

The continued informality was really starting to grate on Taekwoon, especially with how strained he felt right now. "I don't understand. Do you think there's something wrong with it? Come out with it, then."

A couple of students passed by quickly. Wonsik shifted his weight, his hands digging deeper into his pockets. Obviously, he wanted a confrontation because he talked like Taekwoon plagiarized his writing or something, which he severely didn't appreciate. It had crossed his mind that this was about them possibly sharing dreams, but he couldn't know for sure without Wonsik admitting that—which was what he wanted.

There was no reply.

"If you're not going to say anything, I have to get back." he said curtly. "And you should be more respectful to your seniors."

Without waiting, he turned on his heel and went back into the casting room quietly. He pretended not to hear Wonsik scoff before the door closed.

Back inside the room, Taekwoon took his seat. The person next to him noticed his tense shoulders and asked him what was wrong, but he muttered it was nothing. The truth was, he was getting more pissed by the second.

That Wonsik he'd just talked to wasn't the same one who saved his life and cooed at his dog and said goofy things. Taekwoon rubbed the bridge of his nose.

When auditions were over and they worked out decent list of people for callbacks, Taekwoon left first. Watching the actors had numbed his distress a little, but even with his music at full volume, it came back to him when he was walking across campus.

Was all of this worth it? From Wonsik treating him like a stranger to Taekwoon's despair bred from it, maybe it wasn't. Being so emotionally involved like this had never been his thing, so maybe it was time to cut his losses and pretend none of it ever happened. That seemed better than chasing after someone who turned on a dime with no explanation, and it would save him from heartache he didn't know if he was ready to handle.

But...

He paused in the middle of walking.

His chest already ached at the thought of ditching everything.

This sucked. Badly.

•

•

•

_"I don't like it." Wonsik said, crossing his arms._

_Taekwoon sighed again._

_"Hyung... You don't find anything suspicious about it?" he pressed. "Yes, he's our lord and it's our job to protect him with our life, but he's... always taken a special interest in you—and_ don't _tell me it's just my imagination again because I'm not the only one who's noticed." He pointed accusingly at Taekwoon._

_"Even if his Lordship did have a—" Taekwoon rolled his eyes as he said it, "—'special interest' in me, I fail to see what worries you so much."_

_Huffing in frustration, Wonsik got up and began to pace. "You haven't noticed that you've been spending less and less time with the rest of us? From an outsider's point of view, it almost looks like you're shirking on your duties."_

_At that, Taekwoon narrowed his eyes._

_Wonsik ignored it._ "I _know you're not, but others don't and it's starting to look suspicious." He paused. "You don't find it odd at all?"_

 _Taekwoon wanted to snap,_ 'Of course it's odd!' _but he knew he could not. No one—especially not the Lord—could know his suspicions. There was nothing more Taekwoon wanted than to confide in Wonsik about the Lord's strange behavior towards him, but with the nature of their relationship, he didn't want Wonsik to get the wrong idea._

_He sighed one more time._

_"Wonsik, please... Please reign in your jealousy." he eventually said. "It's not becoming of a lieutenant."_

_Indignation took over Wonsik's face as he stuttered for a reply, but then he stubbornly set his jaw. "Fine, but don't say I didn't warn you."_

_In an unusual fashion, he stalked off. Somber, Taekwoon watched him go._

_"...I won't."_

•

•

•

Yearning was sprouting in Taekwoon's chest as he sat up in bed. He was still half-asleep, so he sat there, letting the feeling fester, and following it was anguish. A sleepy sob left his throat, but as soon as he was more awake, he wiped his eyes and looked around.

His room.

No Wonsik.

...He didn't appreciate how his dreams were paralleling real life in a way, like they were mocking him. He already had enough on his plate.

There were no classes for him today, which was a great excuse to stay at home and do absolutely nothing. Winter break seemed so far behind him now and he wanted to catch up on sleep he'd been losing, but was reluctant to in case his dreams would decide to mock him again.

Why didn't dream-Taekwoon tell dream-Wonsik the truth about the lord? He shouldn't be so accusing though since he realized he would've done the same thing—which had to be proof they were one in the same person.

Shuffling around his apartment to try and wake himself up didn't help smother the longing. Laying around all day probably wouldn't change anything either, so while he drank coffee, he built up the determination to go out and do something for himself today. What though? It wasn't like he had a lot of hobbies... He could find and rent a soundproof room and scream for ten minutes straight, maybe.

"I'll treat myself to food." he decided almost an hour later, but didn't immediately move.

When he recalled a comment from a partner about the female character being too... masculine, he started revising some of the script's dialogue. The comment made him roll his eyes, but what could he do? No one knew who the characters were based off off, main characters or not. Besides, the crew would've never gone for a homosexual relationship in for the film's basis—the project was a major grade and no one wanted to risk that.

He wondered if Wonsik would attend the mid-semester film festival where it would be showcased.

After running out of things to edit (and his brain was too mushy to care anymore), Taekwoon dressed for the day and then headed out to treat himself to lunch. Living in a college town gave him a ton of great picks, but his feet carried him to a specific place on their own.

Snow had started to fall sometime along his walk. Flurries decorated his black hair as he stood in front of the small noodle bar he'd only been to once before. His breath steamed in front of him. The shop's noodles were good, he told himself, and then walked in.

It seemed like a lifetime ago that he was in here, but the atmosphere was the same as he remembered. It was early, so not a lot of people were around, but he was grateful for that. He went up to the bar to scan the blackboard menus.

"Taekwoon-sunbae?"

At his name, Taekwoon startled and looked over his shoulder. The light from the windows reflected off of minty hair—Yoongi.

"Hello, sunbae." Yoongi greeted when he confirmed it was him.

"Hi." Taekwoon said, awkwardly.

Yoongi shifted, not sure what to say, so Taekwoon spoke first.

"Day off?"

Joining him at the bar, he nodded. "I live close too, me and Wonsik come when we're too lazy to cook."

"Wonsik?"

"The other guy working—"

"No, I know Wonsik." he said, but then coughed into his fist apologetically. "Sorry, I meant... Are you and Wonsik roommates?" Because Taekwoon definitely didn't remember that being a thing when he stayed over that one night. It could be a new thing. (...It wasn't like he would _know._ _)_

"Oh, nah. We're neighbors, I have my own roommate." He quirked his lips. "We might as well be living together though, he comes over for my roommate's cooking all the time."

"I see..." Taekwoon replied, and then looked at the menus. "...If you're having lunch, I'll treat you."

"Huh?" Yoongi let out. "Er, no sunbae, you don't have to."

Taekwoon shook his head. His wallet wouldn't like him later, but this could be helpful to him now. "Don't feel awkward, I want to. Think of it as, um... thanks for helping write the film's score."

"Does that mean I should call up Wonsik too?"

"No!" Taekwoon said too quickly, and he expected Yoongi to be stunned, but he looked amused instead. "I mean..." _Ah, fuck._ "…It's up to you. I'll treat you both if you want."

Yoongi shook his head, sympathetic. "Don't worry, I won't."

They both pretended like Taekwoon didn't sigh in relief.

At the table, they sat across from each other. Yoongi thanked Taekwoon for the meal and began to eat. He eyed him for a moment and then dug in himself.

"So sunbae," Yoongi eventually began.

"Hyung." Taekwoon finally said, and Yoongi did look surprised at that. "I bought you a meal, so you might as well."

"...Hyung." Yoongi tested, and then continued. "You're Wonsik's hyung too?"

The question lodged a noodle down the wrong pipe and Taekwoon broke into a coughing fit. He had to down his entire glass to clear it up and calm down.

"I'll take that as a yes then."

"Wh-What—" Taekwoon began between coughs, "What m-makes you ask th-that?" He hit his chest with his fist.

"He called you 'hyung' by accident when we found out we were working with you." Amusement shone in his eyes.

What was it about... whatever his relationship with Wonsik was that amused Yoongi so much to make him look like he enjoyed being a bystander?

Taekwoon bit the inside of his lip and looked down at the broth in his bowl. This morning's ache crawled back over his bones and wrapped around his organs almost painfully as he stared at his reflection.

"Look," Yoongi said, sounding sincere. "I don't know what your relationship is with Wonsik but he misses you."

With raised eyebrows and a fallen mouth, Taekwoon looked up at him.

Yoongi sat back in his chair. "He won't say it because he's only good at getting his emotions down on paper, but he does. It's not my place to say any of this, but," and he shook his head with exasperation, "whatever happened between you two, could you work it out soon?"

Saying something like that... How bold of him.

Taekwoon blinked like the words wouldn't process. Wonsik missed him? Wonsik was moping around? Wonsik was... hurting too? He should feel smug because yeah, Wonsik _needed_ to be hurting too—he was the one that just up and left! Don't even get him started on yesterday, how angry Taekwoon was...

He wanted to drop his head on the table.

"I'll pay for us today, hyung." Yoongi said. Taekwoon could hardly look at him. "Think of it as incentive, okay? You seem like a good person and Wonsik... Well. He likes you a lot."

"I'll treat you next time, then." he muttered.

The conversation made Taekwoon nothing but miserable. He was full, but his chest was horribly empty. What was he doing? Why was he acting like this? He felt ridiculous.

The walk home was mostly a dazed blur. Taekwoon couldn't stop thinking about Yoongi telling him that Wonsik... missed him. _Missed him._ Then why wouldn't he message him?

 _Why don't you do it first?_ his mind fired back, and he scowled, unlocking his front door.

The answer was his pride. Wonsik left him first, so he would be damned if he went groveling after him. It was perfectly out of the question.

Changed into something more comfortable and with his school books gathered, Taekwoon settled on his couch and played some music to fill the emptiness. He sighed to himself and began sorting through his materials, looking for the makeup and outfit references the crew had selected.

A black notebook slipped onto his lap and he blinked in surprise.

"This isn't mine." he said to himself, and set everything aside to pick it up.

The binding was worn and cracked, tabs with scribbled writing on them stuck out, most of them bent and some torn. The edges of the pages were soft and frayed from each other. The notebook had seen a lot of use. Taekwoon raised an eyebrow and then opened it. His eyes scanned the name of the owner, written at the bottom corner of the inside corner. They widened.

_If lost, return to Kim Wonsik._

A sudden recollection hit him:

_"This looks like Wonsik's lyrics notebook." Yoongi said._

_"My old one." Wonsik said pointedly, his brow furrowed. "I'unno where that one is..." He sighed._

He had Wonsik's lyrics notebook. Somehow. Somehow? _How?_ He squeezed his eyes closed and tried to remember. The only way he could have it was if Wonsik brought it to his house during the break. Did he ever see him writing in it when they weren't doing anything else?

On the couch.

On his rug.

At the kitchen table.

In the early mornings. The late nights.

Oh yes, he had—and now it was in his hands.

Should... he look inside?

 _No,_ he told himself, it wouldn't be right. He would hate for someone to look through his stuff like that—but the _temptation—_

He quickly set the notebook aside like it might poison him if he had his hands on it for any longer, and then forced his attention away to something else.

Into the night, between working and having a light dinner, he kept glancing at the notebook. He stacked it on top of everything else when he was done. He showered and got into bed, and it was sitting on his nightstand. It was practically _begging_ him to read it.

"Why am I like this?" he groaned to himself, hoping that draping the towel over his wet head would manage to keep him from touching it.

It didn't.

Later, Taekwoon could say it just fell open on his lap. No big deal, he thought.

Nearly every page was filled to the brim with scribbles, doodles, and angry lines scattered here and there. Pieces of page had been ripped or cut out, taped over, blacked out with sharpie, and he could rarely find the title of the page. It would take a professional to decipher any of this mess. He hadn't realized how wild Wonsik actually was, how busy his head was. It was admirable.

The newer pages were cleaner (likely because Wonsik didn't have a lot of time to go back and put in extra stuff), and when Taekwoon came to the most recent entry, the location was put as _Hyung's Veranda._ There was a brief foreword.

_"Hyung seems plagued by nightmares like me. It's strange, but I can't help wondering if they're the same nightmares. Birthmark is burning again today."_

Taekwoon blinked at it and rolled out his shoulders subconsciously. He read the lyrics that followed.

 _You're upset? Come here, lean on me_  
Was it hard? It's always the same thing  
But for some reason, your tears seem hotter today

Heat flared in Taekwoon's face. Surely Wonsik didn't write these with _him_ in mind, that would be so...

He patted his cheeks to soothe the heat and then clapped the notebook closed. It wasn't his too look through. He shouldn't have given into temptation.

Now the only problem was, how was he going to give this back to Wonsik? With how strained their interactions were, he didn't want Wonsik to accuse him of keeping it on purpose out of the blue. A bad taste sat in his mouth at the thought, at how he could think so badly of Wonsik, and he flopped over in bed.

He turned over to look at the notebook now sitting on his nightstand. He wouldn't look again, but he wondered if Wonsik had written anything else inspired by him... How embarrassing. But flattering. And endearing.

The lyrics he read had been lovely.

Groaning, he turned off the light and buried his face into his pillow to sleep.

•

•

•

_For an absurd number of time, Taekwoon found himself in the presence of his Lordship. Upon his summons, Wonsik had promptly turned away with a scowl and the other guardians pretended nothing was transpiring. Taekwoon knew they all had strange ideas and suspicions, but he didn't know how to quell them. He wasn't even sure of how to save himself from this situation._

_The Lord had seemingly become more confident and comfortable around Taekwoon, treating him as a friend rather than his subordinate. While Taekwoon didn't mind that, he didn't think it wise or proper when even those outside the castle had heard of his favoritism for Taekwoon_

_"Would you have a drink?" the Lord asked._

_There was another thing: The Lord was fond of drinking with Taekwoon and it put him ill at ease. He tried to drink slowly while the Lord went one after another, but he found his cup refilled again and again. As if the Lord wanted to waste him into the night._

_"I'm afraid I must reject tonight, my Lord. Early tomorrow, we're setting out to supervise a major trade exchange." Taekwoon explained, trying not to sound deliberate._

_"Is that so?"_

_He didn't miss the hint of disappointment in the Lord's voice. It almost urged him to ask why he wished for him to drink so much, but he doubted that would be wise._

_"I have heard you and your lieutenant have had strained relations lately. Has there been any insurrection among the guard?"_

_Taken aback, Taekwoon took a moment to reign in his surprise. It was the Lord's business indeed, but it seemed more of a personal interest than from lord to servant._

_"There has not been any misbehavior among the guard." Taekwoon responded, measured. "...Though yes, there are a few issues my lieutenant and I must work through. Rest assured that it will not interfere with our duties."_

_The Lord placed his hand on Taekwoon's arm, and Taekwoon held back a flinch._

_"I am most glad to hear that, captain."_

_He squeezed and a shiver ran up Taekwoon's spine._

_"I... Thank you, my Lord."_

•

•

•

"Could it be that I was executed for rejecting his advances?"

Taekwoon asked himself that, but he said it half-asleep, not even realizing what the words were. He rolled over and his arm flopped onto the bed while the other covered his eyes.

Even if he was no longer _that_ Taekwoon, he felt bad for him. They shared pain, and it had ended... pretty badly for him. People weren't executed like that anymore, but Taekwoon hoped that between him and Wonsik now, there would be no sad ending for them.

Groggy, he sat up in bed and hung his legs over the side. Wonsik's notebook sat on his nightstand still, and that was another problem he had to deal with. How was he supposed to give it back? Maybe he could ask Yoongi, but he had a feeling Yoongi would just tell him to stop beating around the bush and do it himself...

While he brushed his teeth, he checked over his calender. Only three more weeks until until the festival. They'd just started shooting last week, so their schedule was a little tighter than it should be, and Taekwoon hadn't written the final scene yet. The other writers were bound to go on without him if he didn't think of something soon.

What kind of ending did he want? In the past, he'd always gone for something bittersweet, a trait his teachers often praised but made his peers ask if he was alright and who hurt him. He liked tragedy and pain, and eliciting feelings of distress from his audience, but this film was different. It was based off _him,_ and did he want a sad ending to his story? Another thing to take into account was that Wonsik would likely be in attendance to the reveal too, and since he was already onto the fact that this had to do with... _them,_ did Taekwoon want him to see how he thought they would end?

He'd start slipping the notebook into his book bag just in case.

•

In Taekwoon's case, shooting was the easy part. The only thing he and the other writers had to do was make sure the lines were being delivered the way they'd written them, and all the selected actors had been doing a marvelous job. It was either that, or Taekwoon was too distracted to care since he had other course to do work while they shot.

The days were supposed to be getting longer soon, but with midterms drawing closer every day and the film festival too, they just seemed shorter and fewer. Midterms weren't nearly as grueling as finals, so he wasn't worried as much, but that was no reason to slack off anyway.

More often than not, when no one on set needed him, he found himself thinking about what Yoongi said, about Wonsik missing him. Did he really? Or did Yoongi just say that to make him feel better?

"CUT!" the director shouted, and startled Taekwoon.

The actress, Jieun, came up to him with questioning eyes. Taekwoon waited for her to talk.

"When you say uncomfortable, you mean... genuinely uncomfortable, right?" she asked, pointing at a few lines in the script.

He read over the lines she referenced and abruptly recalled what inspired them: the lord and his wandering hands. He staved off shivering to not look weird in front of her.

"Yes, genuinely uncomfortable. You don't want him to be touching you like that." he explained, curbing his own discomfort. "No, definitely not flirty."

She nodded and flipped through a few more pages. "It's a very good story, Taekwoon-ssi. How did you come up with it?"

The question raised his eyebrows since no one else had asked him that before. "Ah, um..." He wasn't sure what to say. "It wasn't just me that wrote it..." he offered lamely instead.

Jieun smiled, seeming to understand that he was bashful about it. "Well, either way, I like it. I can't wait to shoot the last scenes!"

Her enthusiasm was appreciated, though he didn't say that. The last scenes needed to be written, first.

The next two days were much of the same: supervising and doing other schoolwork.

On the third day, Yoseob nudged him. He looked up to see him motioning behind them.

"I think they're here to see you."

Taekwoon looked over his shoulder to see Yoongi with a reluctant-looking Wonsik right behind him. His hair was messy as ever, the wind not helping, and it was then Taekwoon noticed how much taller Wonsik was than Yoongi. It was... cute.

Pushing the tenseness from his shoulders, he put his work down, pulled his jacket tighter around himself, and made his way over.

"What brings you here?" he asked, more to Yoongi than Wonsik.

"We heard you were filming today and wanted to check it out." Yoongi replied with a lopsided grin. "Though to be honest, I'm disappointed you're not out there acting, hyung."

Taekwoon definitely didn't miss the way Wonsik's posture went taut at the sound of Yoongi calling him _hyung._ Smugness rose in his chest at the reaction.

"Me, acting?" Taekwoon smirked with pulled down eyebrows. "I think I would rather take a swan dive off a building."

"Awfully dramatic of you." Yoongi teased.

Taekwoon wasn't so mean as to ignore Wonsik completely, so he greeted. "Hello, Wonsik."

"Hello, sunbae."

Apparently, two could play at that game, because hearing him constantly call him sunbae stung.

"How much longer will you be filming for? We kind of need a time frame to finalize the soundtrack." Yoongi asked after sensing the strain between he and Wonsik. "Does it work for the film so far?"

Taekwoon nodded, going along. "You both did a really good job. I knew the music department had some talent in it, but I didn't realize..." He shook his head, getting away from himself. "Anyway, um. Since midterms are in a few weeks, our goal is to finish shooting a half-week before that." He glanced up to the cloudy sky to gather more details in his head. "By then, the final scene will be written and post-production will do editing."

Yoongi nodded and Taekwoon bit his lip in thought, then shot a glance at Wonsik.

"...You'll... both be coming to the premiere, right? Anyone who worked on the film gets in free."

"Free, huh?" Yoongi asked, and then looked at Wonsik. "How could we possibly turn that down?"

"Ah, yeah..." Wonsik said, spacing out while watching Jieun reject the lord's advances on set. He rubbed at his chest.

Yoongi looked sympathetically back at Taekwoon, who sighed to himself.

"What are you doing after shooting?" Yoongi suddenly asked.

"Not much." Taekwoon admitted. "Sleep."

"Wanna grab a drink with me and Wonsik?"

Wonsik jolted at the question, an almost fearful expression taking over his face. Taekwoon's heart pumped faster.

"I-If—" And he cursed himself for stuttering like a dummy, "—If it's not intruding..."

"It's not," Yoongi reassured, "right, Wonsik?"

"R-Right..."

What a convincing reply.

In a style not at all fitting his image, Yoongi made most of the conversation while on the way to the bar they wanted to go to. Taekwoon did his best to follow along, but the feeling of Wonsik's eyes boring into his back was distracting. He hadn't been talkative before, but now that he watched Yoongi interact with Taekwoon, Taekwoon got the feeling it wasn't doing great things for how either of them were feeling.

"I'll pay this time." Taekwoon said when they were seated. Wonsik raised an eyebrow at that but didn't say anything.

After the drinks arrived, Yoongi proposed a toast. "To Taekwoon's film. May his grades prosper and may the rest of the semester treat us all well."

Both Taekwoon and Wonsik snorted at that, but they clinked their glasses anyway.

The days had been so busy that Taekwoon hadn't been eating much, so here he was, downing food at a rate nearly as alarming as Wonsik was drinking. Taekwoon had to give Yoongi a look of questioning, but there was no reply in the shrug. He told Wonsik to slow down.

Most of the talk among them was awkward, but Taekwoon appreciated Yoongi's efforts and the alcohol he was downing made it easier. It seemed to loosen up Wonsik's tongue too, since he was replying to questions Taekwoon asked about their music. Taekwoon knew Wonsik was shitfaced when he stopped calling him sunbae and started calling him hyung again. It was just the alcohol, but there was no denying it felt a little good to hear it again.

True to his word, he paid for their meal and excessive alcohol consumption, and seeing as how none of them could... walk quite properly, they hailed a taxi home to where Wonsik and Yoongi lived. Wonsik paid the fare this time, putting himself between Taekwoon and Yoongi for no good reason. Taekwoon spent most of the ride looking out the window and trying to ignore their sides pressed together. He'd nearly forgotten how unbearably _hot_ Wonsik's body could get.

When they arrived, Taekwoon forced himself out of the car and swallowed cold air by the gulp. Their thighs touching had been way too damn much, and he was only so sober.

"You're staying, right?" Yoongi asked.

Taekwoon's eyes went wide because he wasn't sure if Yoongi was asking if he'd say with _him_ and his roommate, or _Wonsik._ Either way wasn't... too great a choice, but he was drunk and cold and didn't want to walk home. He had enough for a fare back, but thinking of waiting all that time to drop into his bed... Unappealing.

His sigh was dismal. Yoongi, cheeks pink from the cold, smirked.

The three of them bumbled towards the building, helping each other not to fall.

They got to Wonsik's door and Yoongi said, "I'm right next door if you need anything. Make sure he lands in bed?"

Taekwoon didn't appreciate how Yoongi was lumping him with responsibility of Wonsik. He wasn't a _babysitter_ and he definitely didn't want to be one to someone he wasn't on the best of terms with at the moment.

If Wonsik was sober enough to comment, he didn't. The door unlocked and both of them more or less stumbled in. Butt was barking. The apartment was messier than Taekwoon remembered, which was odd considering he'd last been there during finals.

Wonsik stumbled off to his bedroom and Taekwoon awkwardly removed his jacket, glancing down at Butt who was excitedly circling his legs. What was he doing here? This was Yoongi's fault—and Taekwoon _knew_ he did it on purpose. Was he trying to force their reconciliation? If _that_ was going to happen, there should've been a lot more alcohol—it shouldn't even need that in the first place...

Clothes were tossed onto the arm of the couch.

"You need those." Wonsik muttered without waiting for a reply, and then turned back to his bedroom to give Taekwoon privacy. Butt scampered after him.

For a long moment, Taekwoon stared and tried to decide whether he should go home or not. This atmosphere was so awkward and something he normally wouldn't deal with... And even inhibited, Wonsik seemed set on avoiding him at all costs. If that was the case, why didn't he just kick him out?

Well... If they'd be in and out as soon as the morning came, they'd have to see as little of each other as possible. Taekwoon changed into the clothes. The fabric was _saturated_ with Wonsik's scent, overtaking him, and he swayed onto the couch with a face uncomfortably heated. This was too much.

The door opened again.

"Ex'tra bln'kets n' pillow." Wonsik said, but his words were so meshed together that Taekwoon could hardly understand. He stared a moment too long at Taekwoon in his clothes. "Do they fit?"

Taekwoon pulled at the collar and tried to ignore the scent swirling around him. It smelled like that one night they shared a bed. He wondered if Wonsik thought about that like he did.

He nodded.

"Good. m'Going t'sleep now. Night, sunbae."

Taekwoon's eyebrow twitched. "Stop calling me that." he snapped.

Wonsik froze in the doorway.

"Why are you calling me sunbae all the sudden?"

There was no movement, like Wonsik was afraid to look at him.

"Wonsik."

"D-Don't."

Taekwoon's eyebrows raised. "...What?"

Wonsik's shoulders were hunched and his face was turned away so no expression could be seen. "I said, don't." His voice was somber and a little more clear. "W-We're... We can't be close."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He could tell Wonsik was about to run away and he pushed off the couch. "Stop it." he snapped again. "Stop— _leaving._ You _left my house_ without telling me why and now you won't tell me why _again_ and you're leaving. Just—Stop."

Wonsik winced like it hurt.

"Is it because of my birthmark? Is that why?" he asked. "Is it because you have the exact same one?"

This time, Wonsik flinched and then froze. Taekwoon had to stop himself from covering his mouth—that slipped out.

The dim light didn't help him gauge most of Wonsik's body language, and the only sounds were coming from a distance; cars and stray animals. They seemed to exist in a liminal space, neither of them quite real, nor were their surroundings. It felt like a watershed moment.

Out there.

Their birthmarks.

Having the same one.

It was laying out now for both of them to know of.

"H-How... How do you know about that?" Wonsik's voice was quite, measured, even. Surprisingly sober and awake.

Taekwoon shifted his weight, staring at the back of Wonsik's red, red head. The dim light didn't stop it from sticking out at all.

"I saw it..." he mumbled. "By accident. The first night you let me stay here... I saw it."

"Fuck..." Wonsik muttered to himself. "You weren't supposed to."

Well, any genius could've figured that out.

"So much so that you up and _disappeared_ before I woke up? Wonsik, do you know how hurt—"

"I know!" Wonsik snapped, and it was Taekwoon's turn to flinch. "I know..." His voice was softer. Taekwoon's birthmark stung a little too much at this point.

Too long a moment where neither of them said anything passed. Wonsik rubbed tiredly at his face.

"m'Too drunk for this..." he groaned behind his hands.

Taekwoon narrowed his eyes because that was just an _excuse_ to escape, but it wasn't like he had the energy to try and stop him again. Every second that passed was another that weighed his eyelids down. Sleep might be best for both of them. Still... This topic probably wouldn't be approached again when they were sobered up in spite of the sore need for it.

Right now was the time to pick and choose his battles with Wonsik; going at it at every turn was obviously doing no good, not for either of them.

"Whatever." he finally responded. "But you _owe_ me an explanation, Wonsik."

"Fine."

Then, the bedroom door closed and Wonsik was gone. Taekwoon slumped back onto the couch. Bending to Yoongi's mischievous will hadn't been a good idea after all.

•

•

•

_The burn of Wonsik's stare as the attendant led him away to their Lord's chambers was surely imprinted into the back of Taekwoon's head. Another argument drove them further apart, Wonsik going as far as to call Taekwoon "blind" and "foolish", as if he didn't know that the Lord had ulterior motives to spending time with him. Wonsik didn't understand that Taekwoon was powerless to do anything about it, didn't understand that Taekwoon was taking what was pushed on him for the protection of both of them._

_The suspicions around their relationship had withered away since the time he spent with the Lord increased. Taekwoon had put two and two together and heard the whispers shift. Perhaps that had been the Lord's motivations all along: to make it seem as if Taekwoon was molded to his will. What lent this idea credibility was that after he and Wonsik had been... caught by Baewoo, these little audiences began._

_Taekwoon didn't believe that it was Baewoo who exposed them, but rather had felt other eyes on them after the fact. He had no suspects, but it was likely another member of the guard. He didn't care to know who because he knew his wrath would be unleashed upon them. Drawing more attention to a situation already delicate was not ideal._

_It was truly a wonder they hadn't been put to death already._

_Something was distinctly different when the attendant slid the door to the Lord's chambers open. The air was thicker, heavy with something sweet and cloying that churned Taekwoon's stomach. Warning bells rang in his head, but he could not turn away—it would not be accepted—so he gathered his nerves and braved the first few steps deeper into the open room._

_It was incense, he discovered, when he came closer to the tea table. Incense and... something floral. A tray with implements he didn't recognize sat on the tea table, but he didn't need the recognition to realize what it was: paraphernalia for... smoking opium._

_It certainly explained the scent that unsettled Taekwoon's stomach nearly every time he came around._

_"...My Lord?" he called out cautiously._

_"Ah, Taekwoon... My Taekwoon is here..."_

_The voice responding was languid and saccharine, smoothing along Taekwoon's skin like... a snake._ My Taekwoon, _the Lord had said. The nausea was going to return._

_Taekwoon stepped closer to the voice and eventually found the Lord lounging on thick blankets, surrounding by plush pillows. Stripped to his barest robes. A long, thin pipe connected to his lips. Smoke curled from the other side of the pipe and around the dark head of the Lord._

_The moment the Lord's eyes fell on Taekwoon, he felt rooted to the spot. It was a gaze all-seeing, all-knowing, as if stripping Taekwoon down to his soul. That moment, Taekwoon knew he should have turned around and escaped. The moment seemed pivotal, and the regret spanned across time, to a place he couldn't reach in this life._

_The Lord beckoned him forward. Taekwoon did not disobey._

_When he stood at the edge of the blankets, the Lord reached over and playfully tugged at the hem of his robes._

_"You wear far too many clothes, captain."_

_Taekwoon blearily wondered if Captain Sangbae had gone through this too, but he was far older than both of them. Perhaps not._

_"My lord," he breathed, forcing himself to be steady, "this is..."_

_"Nonsense," the Lord said, bringing Taekwoon to his knees. The smell of flowers was turning more into a stench, overpowering Taekwoon, fogging his mind, cutting through his inhibition. "Do not be so wary of me, captain. I do not bite."_

_Taekwoon could hardly flinch at the hand that slid from his face to curl around the nape of his neck. The Lord's appearance was far too indecent for this situation to be considered safe, and every slip of skin blurred together, melting with the sensation of of his hand dragging along places it shouldn't be._

_"You shake, captain."_

_Indeed, Taekwoon trembled, anxiety coursing through him because he did not want this. He did not want to be touched in this manner by a man he swore his life to, by a man who held much in his hands, including the lives of his soldiers, by a man... who wasn't Wonsik. He pressed his eyes closed._

_The Lord tugged him down. Smoke blew in his face._

_"Look at me, Taekwoon."_

_Taekwoon set his jaw and he was sure it could be felt by the hand placed there._

_"Why so tense...? It only makes sense for a servant to serve..."_

_The last layer of his robes was shed from his shoulders and he gasped, jerking back._

_There was a commotion outside._

_The Lord drew away, the smoke around them dissipating and Taekwoon could_ breathe _again._

_"What is that...?"_

_The Lord's voice was tight with anger, but Taekwoon could only sit, his robes pooled around him as if he'd been some_ courtesan _hired purely for the Lord's entertainment. Bile rose in his throat._

_"Taekwoon!"_

_It was... Wonsik's voice shouting for him? Taekwoon's eyes widened in fear. He jerked on his nearest robe, the fabric not cooperating with his newly trembling limbs._

_The door slammed open._

_"Who_ dares _disturb—"_

_"Taekwoon!" Wonsik shouted again, and it launched Taekwoon to his feet. His heart began to bang in his ears, mind racing at what this could mean, what this could lead to._

_"Seize him at once!" the Lord barked._

_Taekwoon rushed forward to see two confused and conflicted guardians restrain Wonsik, bringing him to his knees. His blood ran cold at the sight of spearheads held at his love's throat with his head yanked back._

_"Lieutenant," the Lord began with a deadly calmness, "do you care to explain the meaning of this...?"_

_From behind him, Taekwoon could only stare in horror, his deeply-embedded sense of duty and obedience preventing him from moving. He could barely make out faces in the darkness of the outside._

_"Taekwoon...!" Wonsik grunted, struggling. Taekwoon could see where the spearheads pressed deeper into his skin._

_"Don't!" ripped from his throat and he stepped forward. The Lord grabbed his arm and his fingernails dug into this skin there._

_"Captain," he said patiently, "did you, perhaps, collude with_ dear _Lieutenant Wonsik here to... say, expose me?"_

_All three guardians outside of the chambers took an eyeful of Taekwoon in: shed down to one robe, hardly properly wrapped and about to drop off one shoulder. Blood left Taekwoon's face._

_"My Lord, I did not—"_

_He winced when the skin of his arm broke and he tried to yank it back, but the Lord's grip was vice._

_"Do not_ lie _to me, captain." he said, "it is all here, laid out before me. Your complacency, your close quarters with dear Wonsik, your aloof attitude. Even your rise to the position of captain... You certainly are a devious man, Jung Taekwoon."_

_The Lord yanked him close, and although he could have easily overpowered him, he didn't. Wonsik and the two other guardians watched on as the Lord licked a thick strip up his neck. Every inch of his skin broke into goosebumps. Filthy; he felt tainted._

_"Taekwoon!" Wonsik cried._

_The desperation ignited Taekwoon senses and before he knew what he was doing, he yanked on the Lord's arm and using his weight and shoulders, he threw the Lord over his body and slammed him into the ground. The Lord gasped, saliva flying from his mouth, and Taekwoon stumbled backwards, heart prepared to stop and eyes wide._

_It was silent._

_Wonsik took that moment to break free, jump up to Taekwoon, and then snatch him. They began to run._

_"AFTER THEM!"_

•

•

•

Taekwoon woke with a start panting. Under the pajama pants and two layers of blankets, he was burning up to the point of causing panic, so he jerked out of everything and fell off the couch.

"Fuck!" he hissed to himself, trying to get enough space around him to not feel like the walls were closing in.

On the ground, he sat panting for a good five minutes before he was fully conscious and more or less calm. Unfortunately, that came with being aware of his agonizing headache and cotton mouth. Wonsik's bedroom door was still closed, either meaning Wonsik wasn't up yet, or he was and didn't want to see Taekwoon. His mouth tasted really fucking awful, and his back burned too.

Why had no one tried to assassinate that pathetic excuse for a lord?

Fuck, he was so upset about it.

The bedroom door creaked open. Cautiously, Wonsik peeked his head out. He made eye contact with Taekwoon sprawled on the floor.

Birds crowed outside.

"That was you?" Wonsik asked, rubbing at his puffy eyes. They were a little red, like he'd been crying. Taekwoon felt like crying too.

"No, it was the cat I pushed from the windowsill." Taekwoon deadpanned.

"You wouldn't do that."

"It's not like you would know that, now would you?"

Wonsik bit his lip at that, guilt evident.

"...Do you need aspirin?"

"...Fuck, yes."

After chugging his way through water bottle, Taekwoon was curled up to the far corner of the couch while Wonsik brewed himself coffee. It was tempting, but he wasn't sure his stomach could handle it right now. He was sure that instead of just sitting there, he should be cleaning up where he slept and getting ready to leave. The atmosphere was on the brink of awkward.

"D'you have any classes today?" Wonsik asked, breaking the silence.

Taekwoon let his throat loosen up a little and then shook his head although Wonsik couldn't see it. "I have one in the late afternoon. I wouldn't have agreed to drinking if I did."

He watched Wonsik brace himself along the counter of the kitchenette, wondering what it was he wanted to say. There were a lot of things to say, but where to start? Taekwoon wanted to talk until his brain was empty, but there were too many straws to pull at, and he didn't want to start with the wrong one.

"Was it a nightmare?" Wonsik suddenly asked.

Taekwoon's shoulders stilled. "...Yes."

Wonsik heaved a sigh, a shaky one, an unsure one. "Me too." he muttered, his voice resigned to some fact he'd yet to tell Taekwoon. "Why is it... Why do we always have nightmares at the same time?"

 _So he noticed._ Taekwoon thought, and then bit his lip. _How could he not? He knows we have the same mark on our bodies now, even though he thinks_ I _don't know. What do I say?_

"My," forced out of his mouth, "grandmother... She used to tell me that the... the mark on my back would bring me to someone I was meant to be with..." His voice got smaller with every word because he realized how stupid it sounded out loud.

For a long moment, Wonsik didn't say anything and the lack of response was discouraging. Taekwoon pushed himself off the couch and began to fold blankets with the intention of changing into his own clothes and then leaving. This was too strenuous, no matter how much he wanted to get all of it off his chest. His threshold for humiliation was only so wide.

"My parents told me to hide mine." Wonsik then said, and Taekwoon froze, without reply. "...You said you saw it already, didn't you? Don't act surprised." He sounded bitter, and then turned around.

Taekwoon stayed by the couch, eyes darting around for an exit because this was coming faster than he could deal with and it was going to hit him like a freight train.

"When I was born, the doctors said it was some benign mark they couldn't explain, and that nothing should come of it." Wonsik said, leaning against the counter. Taekwoon didn't move. He hardly breathed. "So my parents thought someone cursed me because I was a clumsy baby... They sought out psychic help."

By the annoyed tone of his voice, Taekwoon could tell his parents were the opposite of his, and more like his grandmother, insistent that it all meant something. Wonsik crossed his arms and tilted his head back, like his neck was too tired to support it anymore.

"Get a load of this," he said, voice strained because of the angle of his neck, "the psychic said the mark would kill me someday, and what's more, my parents believed it. They... got strict. I couldn't go anywhere alone, could only have friends they approved of, couldn't participate in activities like I wanted..." He snorted, like it was all some cruel joke. "Then, you wouldn't believe it, but on _top_ of all that, I turned out to be a fucking _gay."_

His bitterness could practically be cut through with a knife, and with every word that left his mouth, more guilt creeped into Taekwoon. He didn't know why _he_ felt so bad about something he had nothing to do with, but if his parents had become homophobic control freaks throughout the entirety of his childhood, he supposed he'd walk away with a few open wounds too.

Neither of them had moved from their spots, Taekwoon because he was too nervous to and Wonsik probably because he didn't want to be close to Taekwoon.

"That's... why. That's why I'm not close to them anymore. They trapped me because of bad info, stilted my childhood because they thought danger was at every turn—and _then,"_ He laughed harshly, _"then_... They kicked me the fuck out when I confessed my sexuality to them. Said it was a curse by the mark." Taekwoon heard the counter creak with Wonsik pressing his weight against it. "This mark... This _thing_ brought me nothing but bad luck, and I never asked for that."

Taekwoon's blood ran cold. His heart palpitated painfully in his throat.

 _This_ thing _brought me nothing but bad luck._

_Nothing but bad luck._

_Bad luck._

"I'm leaving." Taekwoon said.

Wonsik straightened out, eyes wide. "What—Why?"

Taekwoon didn't answer. He gathered all of his things and went for the door. As he was about to open it, his other arm was yanked on.

"Where are you _going?"_ Wonsik demanded, though it sounded a little desperate.

Yanking his arm back to himself, Taekwoon shot a glare over his shoulder and Wonsik blanched. _"Home."_ he spat. "I wouldn't want to stick around with my _bad luck."_

"Ah, fuck," Wonsik said to himself as Taekwoon opened the door. "That's not what I meant!" he exclaimed, stepping out after him, but Taekwoon didn't stop walking. "I just meant—We—You—I didn't _ask_ for this! They basically abused me!"

"I didn't ask for it either!" Taekwoon yelled, spinning around. He stomped forward and backed Wonsik up against the wall. "But I've been spending _all_ this time—all this time!—trying to figure out what it means! Why I keep having nightmares of a different life, why it burns when I wake up, why I can't _ever_ seem to get you off my mind and—" His voice was breaking, his eyes were welling up, and it felt like the whole world was coming down around him. "— _why_ I have to keep seeing you die in my head!"

He slammed his hand into the wall by Wonsik's head. "Now I'm sorry you had a bad run of shit because of your birthmark, but that's not my fucking fault! If I could take all of this shit back then I _fucking would!"_

There was silence. Taekwoon's last scream echoed through the thin hall of the building and someone probably called up the police. Tears were running down his cheeks.

Wonsik stared, wide-eyed and mouth agape. Taekwoon jerked away and scoffed, quickly wiping at his eyes and then began to leave. His head fucking _hurt._ A door opened when he left the building hallway.

"Wonsik...?"

It was Yoongi's voice and Taekwoon paused at the bottom of the stairs. Another voice joined.

"Are you crying? Where's your friend?"

Before they could see him, Taekwoon made his escape.


	4. They'll Be Making Movies About Us For Years To Come

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taekwoon just wants a happy ending, but he knows he must go after it himself. Does he want to put in that much effort though?

Taekwoon slept through most of his single afternoon class. Evening was set in by the time it was over, and he hardly had enough energy to drag himself home. He'd thought about checking his phone for messages, but it would just bring him heartache. He was so tired.

After he flopped face-first onto his bed, he heaved a sigh. Maybe... it was time to move on. It hadn't been so long ago since they met—two and a half months at most—so... Moving on shouldn't be too difficult, right?

Except his back burned and his heart anguished at the thought. He'd wanted so _badly_ for all of this to work out. To have a happy ending, with Wonsik because apparently neither of them had that in their last life. Was he the only one? He couldn't blame Wonsik for his resentment because of everything that happened with his parents, but... Taekwoon felt like everything had been a mistake when he called it _bad luck._ Like all the work and emotional labor he put into... them was a waste of time.

He hadn't even thought to return Wonsik's notebook. A tear ran down his cheek.

_It hurts._

They were still young. There was still time to move on... No matter how much it hurt.

•

Classes passed by in a blur. Taekwoon's eyes were puffy and refused to stay open for more than a few minutes at a time. At shooting, he told people not to bother him unless it was absolutely necessary; they didn't need him anyway since things were going smoothly. He'd been half-expecting Yoongi to show up at any time, but no one ever came to visit him. Aside from being busy, that could only mean he was now the villain in Wonsik's story.

It was probably better that way.

Before he set off for home, Barom—the director—reminded him and the other writers that they needed to finish the script. There wasn't a lot of time left, but with what had happened, Taekwoon wasn't feeling up to it. There was no motivation. No want to finish the story, not even for a good ending. What was a good ending anyway? He wouldn't know, apparently, no matter which life he lived. This fact was something he'd have to live with.

Swamped with work every day, routine had become ignoring the dull sting of his birthmark. Like everything else, it seemed not to like him or his choices to stay away from the situation with Wonsik. It made him wonder if it would be like that for the rest of his life, since he never planned on going back.

Wonsik's notebook still sat in his bag too, but he hadn't tried to look at it again.

Taekwoon's sleeps had become dreamless since the morning he left. No more memories of his past life were revealed, only vague feelings of pain lingering in the blurs of his mind after he woke up. It was emptiness that he could barely deal with and seemed to seep into his every day life. He could hardly drag himself out of bed anymore, and the days were going by quicker than ever. The filming crew was starting to get impatient with him.

It was pathetic, frankly. He wasn't happy with himself and how this whole ordeal left him. He'd always been better, stronger than this—and no relationship was worth the ridiculously deep hole he'd dug himself into. Midterms were drawing closer and he needed to finish the script, or else major points would be docked for a film unfinished.

...The only problem was, he'd been drawing on writing inspiration from his dreams. Now that those clearly weren't happening anymore, what was he supposed to do? Any good writer should be able to navigate that problem easily, but he'd stupidly became too reliant.

He had never planned for the movie to end the way his last life did—that was just too sad, and if... Wonsik... would be at the premiere, putting those memories back into their heads wouldn't do either of them any good. How did he want it to end? Happily ever after, of course.

"Ah." he said to himself.

With seething, unresolved hatred for the center of conflict in his dreams, he realized what he actually wanted to do. Two sleepless nights came and went, and when he finally set his pencil down on this script for the last time, he cried for a while.

"Taekwoon..." a one of his partners said when they finished reading his draft. They looked both frightened and amazed, and it was the reaction Taekwoon was going for, so he counted it as a win before they finished talking.

"This is amazing."

"Lemme see!"

"Is it done? The final scene!"

"Jieun and Himchan are gonna love this!"

Everyone had crowded around, which surprised Taekwoon since he hadn't though so many people were waiting on him to finish. He was grateful for them, the excitement made all the suffering worth it. For now, anyway.

They'd gotten to work on writing a final draft immediately, and no more than half a week later, it was done. Just in time too, because the films were due just a _week_ after that. Taekwoon berated himself for moping so long, but even though their schedule was tighter than ever before, everyone was ready to finish out with vigor. It was rejuvenating.

He was able to forget about Wonsik for that little while.

...And then two nights before the movie premiere, Yoongi appeared on his doorstep.

Outside's cold blew into Taekwoon's apartment—which already had shitty insulation, if he was being honest—but he could only stare at Yoongi, who was bundled up in a long padded coat with half his face buried into its collar and a scarf.

"How do you know where I live?" was the first thing Taekwoon asked.

"Wonsik." Yoongi said, which was explanation enough. "May I come in, hyung?"

The moment was pivotal: Taekwoon could either say goodbye to this part of his life, to Wonsik and everything that came with him, or let Yoongi in, be the adults they were, and... sort this out. Even though he was scared. Even though it sapped the life out of him for the last two weeks. Even though he'd rather die than apologize for something he didn't start.

He groaned to himself and Yoongi cracked a sympathetic grin.

"Sorry if it's still cold." Taekwoon muttered when they were inside. "Would you like something warm to drink?"

After serving both of them hot milk, Taekwoon invited Yoongi to sit on the couch while he pulled up a wooden chair. Yoongi himself was fine and dandy, but Taekwoon wasn't sure he was ready for whatever baggage of Wonsik's he brought along with him.

"Let's get on with it, then." he said with resignation.

"The movie premiere is next week, yeah?"

"Yes."

"We're still going."

"If you're sure."

"You wanted us to go."

"I did. _Did."_

There was no immediate reply to that. Yoongi wiped a milk mustache from his lip.

"I don't know what happened between you and Wonsik, but he's messed up about it." he explained plainly. "I should know, he's been spending pretty much every day of the last two weeks at my apartment." He rolled his eyes, as if fed up with the dramatics.

It wasn't the nicest thing of him to think, sure, but there was a little satisfaction in Taekwoon that he wasn't the only one upset by what happened. If he suffered over it, the karmic justice was that Wonsik should too, at least a little. After all, he was the one...

He shook his head to himself.

"Are you asking me to make up with him?"

Yoongi shook his head. "If both of you are upset at each other, then I'm not putting the blame anywhere, you get me? Both of you clearly did things neither of you expected, so it'd be better to just apologize at the same time." He took another drink of the milk, enjoying it. "Besides, midterms are in a week and we're all trying not to die yet. I can't very well go asking you to put down all that just to make up with Wonsik." He shrugged. "He's one of my best friends, but school comes first."

Taekwoon knew there was a reason he'd come to like Yoongi; he was a reasonable guy, if not a little scheming.

"I don't want to meddle anymore than I already have," Yoongi admitted, though he didn't look guilty in this least bit, "but could you try working it out after all this is over?"

"...Do I have a choice?"

"Don't say it like I'm forcing you, hyung." Yoongi gave a little laugh.

"I know..." Taekwoon's childishness was just rearing it's petulant little head. "So... You'll both really be there?"

Yoongi downed the last of his milk. Taekwoon thought he was going to ask for more. "Despite how he acts, Wonsik's always ready to show off all of his work. He'll definitely want to be there."

Taekwoon didn't doubt it.

"Ah, um." he said when he put their mugs in the sink. "Actually, I... have something of Wonsik's."

Yoongi raised an eyebrow as Taekwoon got Wonsik's notebook from his book bag.

"You had it?" he asked, but his tone wasn't accusing.

Taekwoon rubbed his arm. "...Yeah, he must've left it when he stayed over at my house during the break..."

"And you want me to give it back to him."

"...Um."

Yoongi grinned but shook his head. "No dice, sorry hyung."

Brow furrowed, Taekwoon asked, "Why not?"

"You should give it back to him yourself. You know, when you two make up."

Taekwoon glared at him and then groaned. Of _course._

Yoongi said he'd be leaving after that, his last request being that Taekwoon really think about it. There was no forcing it and both of them knew that, but they both also seemed to know the misery that would come out of ending it like it was.

When Taekwoon closed his door for the night, he was ready to collapse. Every time he thought he was okay...

But no, none of that mattered. He had studying to catch up on. Midterms were next week and at the end of that would be the film premiere. The final scene was shot, and it was perfect. Now all Taekwoon needed was for his relationship with Wonsik to heal too.

The week leading up to midterms seemed like the longest one of his life. It reminded him of last semester's finals week, and how swore he was going to drop dead in the middle of a road halfway through. There was a lot more, too much more on his mind this time around though, making something that was less intense _more_ so.

His brain would switch between studying, remembering old dreams, and wondering how he would reconcile with Wonsik. Yoongi had said not to worry about it so much, but he couldn't help it. Lots of things conflicted there. Though it seemed like yet _another_ lifetime ago, Wonsik had saved his life, getting injured in the process too... If it were to come to an end, he'd want it to be a good note, not some bitter memory both of them would resent.

The night before the movie premiere, after Taekwoon had collapsed lifelessly onto his bed, he fell into a deep sleep. For the first time in nearly three weeks, he dreamed.

•

•

•

_Blunt pain struck across Taekwoon's face and his head snapped to the side. He could hear the sharp breaths, barely audible, of the guardians, his former soldiers, from behind him as they subdued him. A tooth seemed to be loosening in his mouth. His lip was already split. His face had already suffered this before._

_However, his pride was still fully intact. Not even on his knees at the fully mercy of his Lord—former, should he begin to say—would he crack. It was beneath him._

_"Do you feel no shame?" the Lord sneered, clutching at Taekwoon's chin. "You. Have._ Betrayed me _, Captain Jung." He spit the title out like a curse. It did not perturb Taekwoon in the slightest. "Have you nothing to say?"_

_Taekwoon grunted at the fingernails digging into his skin. "You—presume—too much, my Lord." he said, meeting the Lord's glare with a stare of his own._

_He was slapped again. The two guardians winced._

_"And so you repay my generosity with this!" the Lord barked. "Unfaithfulness! Deception! Dishonesty!" His shrill echoed throughout the stone halls of the prison. "I held fast to the idea that you would be honest with me on your own time, at your pace, captain, and yet I had to hear it from everyone but you!"_

_A fog of depersonalization was beginning to settle into Taekwoon as he wondered how Wonsik was fairing in this wretched situation. They were being kept in separate prisons after all._

_"Do you have nothing to say for yourself!"_

_Taekwoon coughed and spit out blood. He inhaled slowly and exhaled just as much. Then, he said, "I only—pledged my allegiance—to you, my Lord. Never—anything more. It was you—who deluded yourself with fantasies—of owning me in more ways than one."_

_The Lord's glare was fierce, so much so that any other man who was not Taekwoon would have blanched at being its recipient. No, what Taekwoon feared more was the sudden smile that curled viciously at the Lord's lips._

_He thought his words granted him the upper hand, but he was mistaken. He was still on his knees._

_"Is that so...?" the Lord began deliberately, his mouth lingering on each word. "You believe yourself to be free of me, do you...?"_

_Taekwoon... did not like the ominous edge to his tone._

_"Guards, bring me the brand."_

_The command was a simple one, with implications vague and simultaneously terrifying. The two guardians began to shake behind him._

_"Also, might you bring the..._ other _prisoner?"_

Oh no, _Taekwoon thought. They would be bringing Wonsik before him, he was sure of it._

_The Lord turned back towards him. "If you do not believe it so, then I will simply show you my ownership." he said. "Turn him."_

_The stone floor ground against his bare kneecaps and he winced but did not struggle. A quiet sizzling soon appeared from somewhere behind him, and his stomach began to sink. That was a sound he knew all too well._

_The prison's main door opened and there was a struggle._

_"Let me—go, you bastards!"_

_Taekwoon's stomach plunged down. His eyes widened._

Oh no, no no no. _His mind began to rush._ _What was to come first, he could handle, but the Lord wanted Wonsik to watch—and that was not good for any of them._

_"Taekwoon!" Wonsik shouted, and his voice carried eerily throughout the prison. Taekwoon did not have to see his face to know what he was feeling; the emotions radiated off of him so strongly that Taekwoon began to shake._

_"Not so adamant now, are we?" taunted the Lord, but Taekwoon blocked his voice out._ _It was difficult to hear him in any case, as Wonsik would not stop struggling and shouting profanities._

_"Gag him, please." the Lord said, exasperated. "There is nothing I despise more than a pest who does not know his place. I suppose we'll just have to set him back a few ranks, will we not?"_

_Taekwoon heard metal clink against metal and his stomach knotted to the point of forcing bile up his throat._ _Wonsik was roaring and screaming like a rabid beast, but the sound was muffled by what was no doubt a piece of cloth. Taekwoon had already been stripped of his shirt, not having known what for at first, but as the muscles of his back flexed and strained against his sweaty skin, the anticipation built until he_ _quaked_ _._

_"Here, I bequeath thee with the mark of the most severe punishment." the Lord went on to say, his dark voice dripping with sick pleasure. "A mark that bears the meaning of betrayal and the end of your servitude in my court, Jung Taekwoon. No longer are you captain."_

_Tautness pulled across his shoulders as the sizzling neared. Heat radiated_ _uneasily close to his skin._

_"You may want to breathe for this." the Lord jeered._

_Taekwoon jerked, screaming out. White-hot pain seared through his entire existence. Every part of him felt as if it were melting. Synapses fired rapidly in his brain, shrieking as much as he was. He writhed and lurched against his bonds, wanting nothing more than to get away get away get aWAY—_

_The sear was gone but the burning and stinging was not. He collapsed forward, only held up by the two guardians, saliva dripping from his mouth as well as tears leaking from his eyes. Noises around him blended together_ _and his brain refused to sort them out, too distressed and distracted with pain that wouldn't stop._

_An eternity seemed to pass before he was coherent enough to register that, aside from Wonsik still shouting under his gag, he himself was gasping. Sweat stung at his eyes, but he could not wipe them, he could not even muster the strength to move as he hung from the hold of the guardians._

_"Have you come to?" the Lord asked mildly,_ _though_ _self-satisfaction and cruelty edged his tone._ _"Turn him around." he commanded, and Taekwoon felt his body be dragged around._

_His head hung heavy with a neck too weak to support it, but when Wonsik's endless screeching registered once more, he struggled to raise it. He wished he hadn't; fear and loathing was set into Wonsik's dark eyes as he wrestled against his bonds like a wild animal. At the sight of him shirtless, adrenaline shot through Taekwoon's system._

_"No," he whispered, and then screamed, "NO!"_

_Amusement contorted hideously on the Lord's face as Taekwoon realized what he was going to do._

_"Let him be! He has nothing you want! If it is I you desire, then take me!" he yelled, brimming enough to jerk and yank at the hold on him. "Spare him!"_

_The Lord laughed but did not reply. He_ _held the red-hot iron over the fire that accompanied it while Taekwoon continued his attempts to break free. His heart pounded wildly in his chest,_ _blood alight_ _and adrenaline overcoming his pain, but he could not get away._

_"Feel free to continue your futile struggle, Taekwoon," the Lord smiled, "it will only serve to frustrate you more."_

_He pulled the glowing iron from the fire and waved it once in a circle. Wonsik blanched but growled, biting down viciously on the cloth in his mouth._

_"How does it feel to know you have sealed your own fate, hmm?" the Lord asked Wonsik, closing in on his jerking form. Taekwoon screamed for him to stop. "How does it feel... to see your precious Taekwoon branded by someone else? Do you hate it? Do you wish to kill me?"_

_"STOP!"_

_The Lord smirked. "It truly is such a shame." He raised the iron. The guardians restraining Wonsik pulled his head back by its roots. The brand seared the skin of Wonsik's chest._

_Taekwoon screamed._

•

•

•

Out of bed, slipping across the floor, into the bathroom and into the tub, Taekwoon stumbled. He blindly turned and pulled at the shower nobs until ice poured on him. Every inch of his skin was burning, on fire, like he had the worst, most fierce fever.

The shower amplified sounds he hadn't realized he'd been making since he startled awake—he was sobbing. Sobbing, and couldn't stop. Hurting, for a life he hardly knew and torment that crossed time so far that it ended with him curled on the floor of his bathtub. His clothes clung to him disgustingly, but he didn't bother with them.

Rattled, his mind could only focus on cooling down, on soothing the white-hot pain radiating from his birthmark. It didn't want to let up, not even after five minutes of being drenched with water cold enough to induce hypothermia. A neighbor probably filed a noise complaint since he hadn't stopped crying yet.

Somewhere in the far reaches of his mind, he told himself this was ridiculous. Still, grief invaded every fiber of his being and there was nothing he could do about that right now.

He... He wanted Wonsik. He wanted to see Wonsik, to touch him and hold him and confirm the beat of his heart for his own greedy self. And he had the feeling Wonsik wanted the same.

When he was wrapped up in the fluffiest towels he had, it was 5:14AM. Funny.

On the floor and against the side of his bed, he sat and leaned, letting the noises of the morning not yet come soothe his heart. It seemed like it didn't want to stop breaking. There'd never been sorrow this intense in his entire life. He hated it.

_Tsk._

As if midterms hadn't drained enough of his life force. Someone upstairs probably detested him.

There, on the floor, he dozed off for a little longer.

Today was it. The movie premiere. The fruits of his (and his team's) efforts. The awful, hideous manifestation of his nightmares.

_This is fine._

Fortunately, he had no other classes. Unfortunately, the day would drag on in anticipation of the reaction the film would garner. A passing grade was a guarantee, but that wasn't at the center of his focus. No, what he was caring about the most today... It was going to be Wonsik's reaction. (If he came. Taekwoon hoped he would. He hoped.)

More than usual, as he went about trying to ignore this morning's shitty start, he wanted to see Wonsik again. His face, at the very least.

It seemed like too many nights had passed since he last had a nightmare, and they probably had. He wondered if their happening had just been based off how he interacted with Wonsik. Or if they were in anticipation of future interactions. It was a messed up pattern to play on him and he didn't appreciate it. Though... If fate was deciding to hold fast to their relationship, maybe Wonsik would show up today.

He knew how they got their marks now. It was more fucked up than anything he could've imagined. In the dream though, they looked... different. Not like what he had now. They looked more like a horse's hoof with two lines sticking outwards from the open bottom. Maybe fate changed that too? He didn't know. (All he knew was that he was glad. He was glad about the fate he'd given the lord in the movie. That bastard deserved it.)

While he idly sipped at his coffee throughout the morning, he couldn't help but feel like there would be no more nightmares. It was a strange, jarring realization, but didn't he know everything he needed to? Probably.

Things were coming to an end, whether he was ready or not.

"Are you nervous?" one of the other writers teased hours later. "This movie turned out to be _your_ baby after all."

Taekwoon elbowed them in the side. "If anyone should be nervous, it's the director and the actors." He sniffed indignantly.

"You don't think I did a good job?" Barom gasped, feigning offended.

Taekwoon rolled his eyes. "You did fine." He meant it too; they'd watched the movie several times over the last week to make sure everything was polished for a good grade that the very least. There had been nothing particular in mind for what the music should be, but it ended up framing every scene and moment perfectly. Taekwoon was satisfied.

"Only a little longer..."

A line of patrons, filled with students, teachers, and civilians alike, had soon formed outside the theater, waiting to be let in and seated. Taekwoon hadn't realized how many of them there'd be, but then again, theirs wasn't the only film showing today. Thank god they weren't putting on a stage play—his stomach already tossed and turned enough, threatening to eject what he managed down for breakfast.

When his phone got a message saying, _we're here,_ his heart kicked into overdrive and he had to step out to get a breath of fresh air. At this rate, he'd pass out and miss the premiere altogether.

The other crew were nervous too, but he was the only one pacing about backstage, shaking out his limbs and muttering useless pep talk to himself. No matter how many times he told himself the movie was perfect and that they'd _undoubtedly_ get a good grade, there was only one thing he cared about.

"We gotta take our seats." Barom announced, and Taekwoon's heart leaped.

Theirs was the final movie in the lineup in a list of four for their class. Taekwoon still had time. He wanted to message Yoongi back and ask where they were sitting, but it'd do no good to disturb other watchers.

The other movies were fine and he focused on them as much as he could, but his knee wouldn't stop bouncing. His heart wouldn't stop palpitating. He swore it was going to _stop_ or something.

"We did good." another crew member said among them, just before it was time.

They did good. The fruits of Taekwoon's pain and suffering were about to be cast up on the silver screen. His heartbeat was deafening.

When the screen faded in and the music began, Taekwoon let him fall into a trance, like they were reviewing it for the final time.

The movie spun the tale of a selfish prince, a daughter of the prince's consort, and a member of his personal guard. The prince was a greedy, underhanded man who would go to whatever lengths he had to to get what he wanted, and he would abuse his power and status too. To him, people were no more than toys.

Taekwoon's fist curled into his thigh.

The soldier rarely interacted with the prince unless it was to do his job. Vise versa, the prince barely paid him attention. He and the consort's daughter had been friends a long time, and became more soon enough, but it was looked down upon to be with someone who the parents hadn't chosen, so they kept their relationship secret and under the guise of friendship.

The consort's daughter confided in the soldier how afraid she was that the prince would choose her as a bride because of how uncomfortable he made her, of how he would touch her and look at her. She never felt safe with him and it made both of them angry, so they decided to plan for his demise together.

Of course, there were setbacks: people catching them, having to pay off bribes, being separated by parents, going under suspicion by the prince himself—but none of this would stop them. They wanted to be free of his selfish fist and were willing to do whatever it took for that.

If only Taekwoon had been smarter.

By traitorous word of mouth, their plan had been discovered and the soldier was jailed and eventually sentenced to death by the prince. The consort's daughter was heartbroken, but determined to free him and escape. The night before his execution, she set forth her plan to seduce the prince—knowing that if there were any mistakes, they would both die—and poison him.

The music that cradled her final monologue before she would cast herself into an uncertain future swayed powerfully, and there were tears and sniffles heard all around the theater. Broken out in goosebumps, Taekwoon himself could feel his emotions surging against his will. He ached.

Everyone held their breath as the consort's daughter watched the prince drink the tea she served. He dropped and the cup fell from his hands. Realizing he'd been poisoned, he attacked her and they struggled fiercely. His hands wrapped around her neck to choke the life from her, but she drew a short sword from her robes and sliced at his arms. Freed, she climbed on top of him and took out her terror on his body with the blade.

A pin could be heard if dropped in the theater.

Still fueled by adrenaline, she dashed to the soldier's cell and freed him, and after a broken explanation of what she had done, they hugged fiercely. They couldn't stay. They wouldn't be allowed to live. There was nothing left for them here.

Hand in hand, they disappeared into the night.

"Hey, it's over. Hey, Taekwoon,"

Yoseob sitting next to him was nudging him back to reality.

"Are you crying?" he asked, and then laughed. "You're so full of yourself!"

The audience was clapping, a standing ovation, tears all around.

Taekwoon wiped at his face, dazed.

Another member of the crew had to lead him up to the stage for the team to give their closing statements on the project. Taekwoon let the others speak because he was still reigning in his emotions. It'd be great to get away and be alone for a few minutes.

He cast a sweeping search of the crowd, looking for two ridiculous shades of hair among them. He spotted Yoongi first, though fiery red was sitting next to him—they were near the back of the theater. Yoongi was whispering something rapidly, his arm around Wonsik's shoulder, and Taekwoon could only see the top of his head. Was he crying too?

As soon as they took their final bow, Taekwoon dashed off the stage and to the bathroom. He splashed cold water on his face and tried to calm down.

That wasn't his life anymore and it had just been a movie. It was time to move forward.

He wanted to see Wonsik.

A few more minutes of wiping his face and taking a few deep breaths later, Taekwoon left the bathroom. Only a handful of stragglers lingered in the theater seats, but when he searched them, Yoongi and Wonsik weren't there. His heart sank a little. He wandered backstage to gather his things, gloom tinging his movements a little, when someone tapped him on the shoulder.

Taekwoon was startled at the sight of a freakishly beautiful boy with black hair smiling at him.

"...Yes?" he asked.

"You're Taekwoon, right?"

"...Yes."

"Ah, sorry," the boy grinned apologetically, "I'm Seokjin, I'm Yoongi's roommate? I watched the movie with them today and Yoongi asked me to find you."

_Yoongi's roommate, Wonsik's neighbor._

Ah, he must've been the other person Taekwoon heard that night asking Wonsik if he was crying. That meant he... knew some stuff. Taekwoon flushed a little.

"Would you come with me?" Seokjin asked politely. "They're waiting."

"Um, sure... Give me a minute." Taekwoon mumbled awkwardly, and put his coat and scarf on.

As he buttoned himself up, his heart began to race. He wanted to see Wonsik and now this guy—Seokjin—was going to take him to him. It felt like he was wearing gloves with how much he fumbled at the buttons. What did Wonsik think of the movie? Would he be upset? Was he ready to move on too?

Would they say goodbye?

 _It burns._ he thought in passing.

After taking a little longer than he should have, Taekwoon nodded to Seokjin and they walked out of the theater together. The sun shone so much that Taekwoon needed to cover his eyes, the light reflecting off the blanket of snow not helping in the least bit. Cold air poured almost painfully into his lungs, but after crying and rinsing his face, it was slapping him awake and giving him clarity.

"Ah, there they are." Seokjin pointed out cheerfully, and Taekwoon followed his finger to see Yoongi and Wonsik sitting together on a bench across the street. Wonsik was looking at his hands while Yoongi said things to him, and Taekwoon wondered if he was a little more than upset. He didn't know Seokjin at all, but surely the guy wouldn't put all of them in a clumsy situation, would he? That'd be just Taekwoon's luck.

The pedestrian light changed and Taekwoon began to walk, his heart pounding in his head and his hands curling tight in his pockets. Halfway across the street—

A car horn blared.

_"Taekwoon!"_

Tires screeched.

"Oh my god!"

"Are they okay?"

The world lurched and Taekwoon shook his head, head aching. He blinked rapidly and a blotch of red was hanging over his face.

"F-Fancy meeting you here," a deep voice said.

Taekwoon's heart jumped. "Wonsik?"

"I think I'm having déjà vu."

Wonsik rolled off him, and Taekwoon shot up, looking around. The campus police were quickly on the scene and people were asking them if they were alright. Aside from a bump that'd be there on his head later, he was fine. More importantly, Wonsik was grabbing his shoulders.

"I looked up what it means." he said breathlessly, his eyes light and alive. "The marks, I—I know what they mean now..."

Taekwoon's heart pounded in his chest, but not from having almost just died again. He hadn't ever thought to look up what geometrical lines made out. One of his hands curled around Wonsik's forearm.

Wonsik leaned forward and bumped their foreheads together, and with a watery voice, he said, "It's supposed to bring you love— _your_ love." He laughed, and Taekwoon felt lightheaded at the sight of his curved eyes, tears dotting the corners, his bunched cheeks and his toothy, lovely smile. "I'm sorry, I'm _sorry."_

Without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around Wonsik and held him tight. The sun was blinding up above, but he was laughing and crying and nothing else seemed to matter any more. The anguish and misery was melting away.

"I missed you so much," Wonsik cried, and he didn't sound like he was just talking about _this_ life.

Taekwoon's throat worked painfully around his reply, "I missed you too..."

Whatever the birthmarks meant, they'd done their jobs.

They were alive. They were free. They'd found each other again.

A happy ending in this life, and the next—and all the others that would follow. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's the end folks! Well, until the epilogue, anyway. Stay tuned tomorrow!


	5. Epilogue

There had been a lot of tears—who knew the both of them were such crybabies?

The birthmarks no longer stung and the nightmares plagued them no longer—when they'd gotten into the habit of sleeping over at each other's places, they'd ask in the morning—and it seemed like they wouldn't ever again. Being free of that burden was such an odd revelation that Taekwoon felt like a tiny part of him had chipped off, but with Wonsik finally, _finally_ at his side, it didn't seem to matter.

Wonsik's apologies were numerous and often, and Taekwoon was just as bad. Wonsik, for being a stubborn asshole, and Taekwoon, for being a secretive asshole. There'd been a lot they had to work out.

They talked about how strange it was, their dreams and everything else, and how equally incredible it was that they found each other... again. Taekwoon expressed his wishes to have killed the lord of their dreams, and Wonsik agreed with an aged anger in his eyes.

It wasn't quite like coming home to an old lover, but more like a fresh start both of them had been ready for.

"I was really weirded out by your grandma's friend when we I stayed over." Wonsik admitted one day when they were cuddled on Taekwoon's couch. "She talked like she knew everything about us—man, I really thought she was gonna like, expose me or something. Or tell me I was gonna die. Again."

Taekwoon's lips quirked. "She was the only connection I had to figure out what was happening. I kind of... took you there on purpose?" he said.

"What a shocker." Wonsik rolled his eyes, but wasn't annoyed at all. "D'you think that well thing worked?"

"No." Taekwoon replied. "Or, maybe. I don't know. I didn't think about it a lot."

Wonsik went silent for a moment, and then the couch creaked. He grabbed Taekwoon's hand and kissed at the knuckles. Heat flared in Taekwoon's face.

"I'm sorry." Wonsik said solemnly. "I... I shouldn't have left." Taekwoon opened his mouth, but Wonsik pressed on. "It's just—after being raised to think I was basically cursed, I got scared. For both of us, I mean. I got really scared... that both of us would get hurt." He tipped his head forward, the new purple falling over his face. "I mean, you almost died again anyway, but that's beside the point."

The shaky voice softened Taekwoon's face and he ran his fingers through the locks in front of him. "Well, at least we didn't get branded this time." he said, trying to make light, but Wonsik tensed. "You know what I mean..."

Wonsik took a deep breath and sat straight again. "I can't believe you had me working on music for a movie about _us."_ he said, wiping his eyes. "That's so cheesy, hyung!"

"You _said_ you liked it." Taekwoon defended. "So what does it matter? And I don't want to hear _you_ talk about cheesy when all those lyrics in your notebook are there!"

Wonsik narrowed his eyes at him. "Listen..." he said, but then redirected the conversation. "I did like it." he pouted, curling into Taekwoon's side. "It was a good movie. Can we watch it again?"

 _"Again?"_ Taekwoon asked. "This will be the fifth time, at _least."_

"It's a good movie! What do you want from me!"

Taekwoon snorted. "It better be... I literally died to make this movie."

"Enough with the dead jokes!" Wonsik complained, and started poking at Taekwoon's side. "They're such a bummer!"

Taekwoon laughed, trying to crawl away from Wonsik's relentless fingers.

"You can't escape me." Wonsik growled playfully, wrapping his arms around Taekwoon's waist and hoisting him into his lap. Their bodies pressed so tight together it was hard to tell where one ended and the other began as Wonsik nipped playfully where his birthmark was. "We're never getting separated again."

"Wonsik, no!" Taekwoon laughed when he buried his face into his neck. They rolled off the couch and crashed to the floor, no doubt disturbing the neighbors.

When they settled, Wonsik was straddling Taekwoon, pinning his arms on either side of his head. They stared at each other and Wonsik's expression eased into adoration, fueling a blush across Taekwoon's face. He turned his head.

"...What?"

Wonsik leaned down, the tip of his nose gracing Taekwoon's cheek. "...I love you." he murmured against the skin behind his ear. Taekwoon broke into goosebumps.

He freed his arms and pulled Wonsik down, a watery smile on his lips as he nuzzled into his chest. "I love you too." he responded quietly against the spot where his birthmark would be. "God, I love you."

"I'm never letting go again. Not in this life, or the next, or the next."

Their lips touched and the salt of Taekwoon's own tears joined the fray. Maybe there really had been something to that goddess's blessing.

_I guess we really did get lucky. In this life, anyway._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it folks! Now that it's over, I'm not sure what to say, haha. I've never done this before, never finished a fic of this measure, and it was really exhausting, but rewarding at the same time. To get such a positive response too, is unbelievable since I thought the story was mediocre at first. There was a lot I worried about, but now I feel better about all of it. I'm not sure I'll be able to pull off something like this again, but I'm happy I could do it this one time!
> 
> I sincerely hope you enjoyed and that you'll come back to read it again sometime. Meanwhile, if you'd like to find me elsewhere, I'm on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/ahegaoravi) and [Tumblr](homoerotixx.tumblr.com). Thanks for everything!


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